


Lightning in Your Veins

by All_My_Characters_Are_Dead



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, F/M, Gen, M/M, Magic AU, The reds and blues are witches, Tucker has a Shitty Day, Tucker is a good dad, Wash has Doubts, dragon rider au, dragon riders vs witches, so that's fun, the freelancers are dragon riders who hunt witches, the mercs are here now and felix is having fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-04-11 12:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 35,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19109875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/All_My_Characters_Are_Dead/pseuds/All_My_Characters_Are_Dead
Summary: Tucker has had a lot of shitty days in his life, but the day his son gets kidnapped is probably the worst one yet.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I have never written RvB fic before so I'm just kind of throwing this out there and hoping it's decent?  
> If/when I continue, the tags, warnings, ratings, and relationships involved are subject to change. If they do, I'll mention it in the chapter notes just to be safe.

Tucker has had a lot of shitty days over the course of his life. 

There was the day when he was seven and his dad vanished. Plus the one when he was twelve and his mom was killed by Dragoons because they caught her using magic. Then when he was seventeen and found out he was a witch just like his mom, because he didn’t have enough problems without occasionally losing control and dripping  _ fucking lightning _ from his fingers. Oh, and when he was nineteen, his girlfriend disappeared - he never did find out if she ditched him or if she had been caught or killed - leaving him with a baby he had no fucking clue how to raise. 

The only good things in his life so far were Junior and the fact that he had finally found a coven for himself and his kid when he was twenty-two. But then of course the coven was a goddamn  _ mess, _ and led to  _ more _ shitty days - Caboose set himself on fire, Church was an asshole, and then their leader went off to fight off a squad of Dragoons that had been poking around the town they were hiding in and never came back - and Tucker decided that actually okay Junior was the  _ only _ good thing in his life, especially once another coven moved into the same town and started breaking shit. 

Which was why he usually kept such a close eye on the kid. 

Today, though, Junior had wanted to play with the other town kids, so while Tucker was definitely still watching him, it was from a distance. So while Junior and his friends chased each other around the field outside of town, Tucker watched from the roof of the coven’s home on the other side of the field, examining the sword he’d found - stolen - from a squad of Dragoons who were passing through a few days before. He’d discovered that he could send his magic through the blade, and that’s what he was trying to focus on - come  _ on, _ he practically  _ oozed _ lightning when he didn’t want to, why couldn’t he just make it  _ work _ now? - when he realized that the kids had gone silent. 

Tucker lifted his head, scanning the field. 

No children. 

He replayed the last few seconds in his head. The wind had picked up for a second, the kids had been screeching about something, and then…

Silence. 

Tucker stood, gripping the sword in his hands and not even noticing as lightning danced over the blade.

The field was empty. 

Tucker raced through their home, out into the field, scanning again. 

Maybe the kids were just playing hide and seek. 

He called for Junior,  _ screamed _ until Caboose and Church came out to see what was wrong. 

The three of them searched, but all they could find was a few things the kids must’ve dropped - including the stick Junior had been carrying around, telling everyone who would listen that it was a sword like the one his dad had found - and the imprint of talons in the earth. 

Tucker stared at the gauges in the ground, the only sign of where the kids might have gone. 

“Maybe they turned into birds!” Caboose crouched over the marks, mist and sparks twisting around him as the earth shivered beneath his hand. 

“Did you get more stupid?” Church muttered. He swiped a hand through Caboose’s mist, adding his own and sending tendrils out across the field. “Shit.” He glanced at Tucker. “I guess you can focus more on controlling your zappy side, huh, Tucker?”

Electricity arched from the sword, curling around Tucker’s arm as he whirled on Church. 

“Fuck right the  _ fuck _ off!” Tucker hissed, unaware that his eyes were glowing and the lightning around him was growing. “I’m going after them.” 

“Family vacation! I’ll get my bag!” Caboose cheered, trotting off toward the house. 

“What? They have  _ dragons!” _ Church’s mist returned, coiling close around his body before dissipating. “And you’re losing control.  _ Again. _ There’s no way you’ll last a day. You don’t even know where they went, or if the kids are-” 

“I swear to god if you say I don’t know if Junior is alive, I will shove this sword so far up your ass the point will be in your throat.” 

“You’re not going.” 

“You know you’re not  _ really _ the leader, right?” Tucker snapped. “I’m going after my kid.” 

“Well at least wait the fuck up. Kai’s visiting her brother today, and I think one of the morons on the other side of town has some kind of spy shit going on.” Church still sounded like he’d really rather Tucker just went back inside, but he also knew Tucker wasn’t backing down. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t give him shit the whole way, but...it was better than being down a member. “And hey. Quit that glowing shit or you’re gonna get us snatched by dragons too.”

Tucker took a deep breath, tried to push his magic away. Thankfully, the crackling energy around him faded, but the lightning wasn't gone. It just sank deeper, beneath the skin, flowing through him to the beat of his own racing heart.

* * *

 

Wash wasn’t happy, despite Iota’s best efforts. The dragon was pouring pleasant feelings into his mind, trying to soothe the worry and frustration from him as best she could. 

“Quit that.” He frowned at the dragon, who blinked back at him with wide golden eyes and nudged his shoulder with her muzzle. “No. This isn’t something you can just make go away.” 

“You won’t even let me try,” Iota protested, her voice a soft rumble that faded into a comforting hum as she curled closer around him. 

“Iota. Stop.” The dragon’s hum became a whine, but the soft feelings lapping at the edge of his mind faded, letting him focus on the real problem. “Captain, we can’t do this.” 

“It’s not your call, Washington.” The captain - Carolina - sighed and patted the shoulder of her own dragon. Epsilon growled and twitched, his eyes focused on the four children he was watching. They clustered more tightly together, whimpering as the dragon’s claws dug into the earth. 

“I hate this,” Wash insisted, forcing himself not to bite his lip as one of the kids sniffled. 

“You didn’t flinch when we wiped out that coven last week. This job is  _ way _ easier,” South piped up from where she and Eta were curled up. Her yellow dragon let out a hiss, and she swatted at his nose, adding, “Don’t you dare, Eta. They’ll scream if you use it.” Wash shuddered; as annoying as Iota trying to soothe him constantly could be, at least he didn’t have Eta in his head. 

“Washington has a point. We have never been asked to target children before.” It was a red dragon that paced in circles around the camp that spoke next. “I am not... _ objecting, _ just...observing,” he added when Carolina shot him a glare. 

“Nobody asked, Sigma. Where’d you leave Maine?” 

“He is collecting wood for the fire. Perhaps Washington would feel better if he joined him?” Sigma suggested. 

“He’s right. You always like helping Maine,” Iota whispered, uncurling and nudging him toward the edge of the camp where Sigma paced. A shadow passed overhead, Gamma circling the camp with Wyoming on his back, playing lookout just in case anyone from the shitty little town of Blood Gulch had been smart or brave or stupid enough to follow them. 

Or in case there were any covens in the area. 

“That’s not-”

“Washington.” He paused as Carolina’s tone became more stern. “We follow orders, remember?”

“I signed up to hunt witches. Not this.” Wash left it there, passing Sigma on his way out of the camp. 

“If these children were witches, would it ease your concerns?” Sigma rumbled, watching him go. Wash ignored him, tried to push the question out of his mind. 

Of  _ course _ it would be different if the kids were witches. Witches were  _ dangerous, _ they were a  _ threat. _ They’d destroy the world if they weren’t hunted down. He became a Dragoon, fought to become one of the Wizard’s top soldiers, all for the chance to take out witches before they ruined everything. 

But those kids weren’t witches. If they were, they’d have showed magic when they were captured. If they were witches, their coven wouldn’t have left them out in the open like that. 

So they couldn’t be witches. 

Which meant they weren’t the people Wash was supposed to kill.

They weren’t a threat, yet Carolina had Epsilon on high alert, and Wyoming and Gamma were still circling. 

A tap on his shoulder alerted Wash to the fact that he’d managed to actually walk right past Maine without noticing. Once he had Wash’s attention, Maine signed to him. 

“Did something happen?”

“Not since we kidnapped the non-witch kids, no,” Wash sighed. Maine considered him, tilting his head thoughtfully. 

“Children are not dangerous.” 

“Exactly!” Wash threw up his hands. “Whatever the Wizard wants them for, we could’ve just told their parents or something. Not like some tiny village is gonna say no to a Wizard. And we  _ definitely _ don’t need Carolina using the dragons to bully the kids!” 

“Pretend they are witches. Baby witches that don’t have magic yet. But they will someday.” Maine’s signs were steady, no doubt in his movements. Wash sighed, waited for Maine to lower his hands before taking one in his. 

“I think I can do that. The sooner we get them back to the Capital and drop them off, the better.” Maine nodded, then tugged Wash toward a pile of firewood he’d been accumulating while away from camp. “Sure, I’ll help.” Wash had to admit, Iota was right. Helping Maine did make him feel better, at least a little. 

Finishing this mission and getting back to hunting witches would take care of the rest. 

Wash just wished he could get rid of the prickling feeling in his veins that told him this wasn't the end of his unease.   
  



	2. Chapter 2

“Open the fuck up, you assholes!” Tucker had to admit that once Church got into an idea, he was  _ into  _ it. Though maybe the pouding on the door was just because he was still irritated that he’d decided to help. Tucker was pretty sure that helping anyone was something Church was, like, allergic to. This was probably killing him a little more each second. 

The low hiss of air under the door was all the warning Tucker got before the door burst outward, a miniature tornado slamming into Church and throwing him into Caboose, who didn’t even flinch as he caught Church and swung him over his shoulder. Church made his displeasure known by screeching as close to Caboose’s ear as he could manage. Tucker yelped as the small but apparently fierce whirlwind turned in his direction. He tried to dodge, he really did, but it caught him and threw him at Caboose, too, but instead of being caught, Tucker ended up slamming into the ground at Caboose’s feet.

“Shit!”

“Nice job, Sarge!” Tucker lifted his head to glare at the people inside the house. There was the coven’s leader, an air witch who was looking very pleased with himself, but not as pleased as the scrawny water witch beside him. How Simmons managed to look so smug when he hadn’t even done anything was beyond Tucker.  

“That’ll teach those dirty Blue Coven witches to cross into our turf!” Sarge was  _ gloating, _ the asshole, and his second in command seemed to be encouraging him, as always. 

“I fucking hate you people,” Tucker growled as he started to get up, only for Caboose to set Church down right on top of him. Luckily, Church wasn’t exactly steady on his feet after being tossed around, so he stumbled off of Tucker’s back before he cracked his ribs or something, but it still left Tucker wheezing as he scrambled to get back up. 

“What are you guys doing here?” Tucker shot a glare at the fourth member of their coven, Kaikaina Grif, who was apparently the only one of them that the Red Blood Gulch Coven didn’t try to kill regularly. 

“They decided today was a good day to-”

“Fuck off,” Tucker interrupted, deciding that potentially getting tossed in the air by another tornado was totally worth not having to hear the rest of that sentence. “We’re here for the fire witch.” 

“I have a  _ name, _ asshole!” Kai hissed. 

“Not you. The other one. Their fire witch.” 

“Who, Donut? Why? Run out of your own innuendos?” Kai was smirking, and Tucker didn’t really have time for this. Junior was  _ gone, _ and he needed to find him. Lightning was starting to creep toward the surface again, a few sparks dancing over his skin. 

“The baby went flying!” Caboose piped up. 

“Dragoons took my fucking kid. I’m going to get him back.” 

“Your fire guy can see shit, right?” Church added before anyone could question why they would want probably the least helpful witch in the coven for that, considering the last time anyone had asked Donut for help, he’d accidentally burned down no less than three houses and half the town’s market. 

“Oh! You guys want me to put on a show?” And there he was, pushing between Sarge and Kai to get out to greet them, the burn scars on the side of his head pulling on his smile as he beamed at them. 

“Donut! Don’t help the enemy!” Sarge scolded. 

“Can you find my kid?” Tucker asked, ignoring Sarge’s angry grumbles as Donut didn’t immediately jump back inside. 

“Only if you let me pull your hair!” Donut fucking  _ chirped, _ which made it take a second for his actual words to register. As soon as they did, however, Tucker took half a step back. 

“What.” 

“For the spell! I need a little something of  _ you _ for it! It doesn’t have to be hair; I could use blood or other bodily fluids to-”

“Hair fucking works.” Tucker  _ really _ didn’t have time for this. 

“Perfect!” Donut lunged forward before Tucker could stop him, or even register the goddamn knife he’d pulled from somewhere - Tucker  _ so _ didn’t want to think about where Donut had been hiding it - and then Donut was stepping back with a lock of Tucker’s hair in his hand. Sparks flickered in Donut’s eyes, and everyone lunged away from him, even the members of his own coven. 

“Donut’s using magic! Everyone run for your lives!” Simmons screeched. Tucker and Church scrambled to get behind Caboose, while Sarge ducked back into the house and Simmons pulled up a sheet of water to replace the door Sarge’s tornado had damaged. 

The hair in Donut’s palm erupted into a ball of flame that engulfed his hand, but the fire witch didn’t flinch. He just stared into the flames, his eyes alight with the reflection of the firelight. Or maybe his eyes were on fire too; with Donut you never knew. 

After about a minute, Donut brought his other hand up and brought his palms together, extinguishing the flames. His eyes still shone faintly like embers as he looked around. When he spotted Tucker peering out from behind Caboose, he grinned. 

“I’ve got good news and bad news!” Donut exclaimed. “The bad news is, the Dragoons who took Junior are headed for the Capital!” 

Shit. That was really bad. If they made it there before Tucker could catch up to them…

“The fuck’s the good news?” Church demanded, stepping around Caboose to properly glare at the fire witch like he hadn’t just been hiding from him. 

“The Dragoons that took him are really hot!” 

Tucker knew he didn’t really have time, but he was absolutely going to murder Donut before he went after his kid. He really was. 

So how they ended up as a whole goddamn caravan heading for the Capital was a mystery to him. 

“Why the  _ fuck _ are the Reds coming with us again?” he muttered. He was pretty sure Sarge had said something about not letting the Blue Coven have all the glory? And Simmons had mentioned that if they failed, the Dragoons would come back to Blood Gulch to make sure all the witches were gone, so they’d probably have to move anyway. 

“Beats me. I’m only here for the hot dragon riders,” Kai reminded him. Tucker rolled his eyes and hoped the Reds didn’t decide to try a sneak attack or something. He really didn’t want to be woken up by a tornado or something. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> introducing North, Theta, York, and Delta!

North watched from his perch on top of the tallest tower in the Capital as five dragons flew in, angling toward the Wizard’s hatchery with a few more passengers than usual. The extra passengers were awfully small, from what little North could see of them from so far away. 

“Theta.” 

“North?” The purple dragon was clutching the tower roof, tail lashing nervously whenever there was a particularly strong gust of wind. 

“Is that Captain Carolina’s squad?” North waited while his dragon focused, keeping his own attention fixed on the five dragons as they spiralled down, the medium blue one first, followed by the red, then the lightest blue, then the yellow, then the darkest blue. 

“I think so.” Theta’s talons kneaded at the roof tiles under him, his wings pressing close against his sides. “But..” 

“What is it?” North kept his voice even, his expression curious and soft as he turned to study his own dragon. 

“I...I think they have kids with them. Little ones, like me.” North kept his confusion hidden. It was weird enough that Carolina’s squad would be flying kids in, but that wasn’t what really bothered him. Theta sometimes said things like that. Kids like him, or that he hoped he was as strong as the others when he grew up, which was strange because Theta was the same age as the other dragons in their unit, and he was plenty large enough to carry North and even a passenger or two when he flew. Sure, Theta wasn’t quite fully grown yet, but he was far from a hatchling. North didn’t ask about it, though; the last time he’d pressed Theta on his strange comments, Theta had gotten really confused and scared, and it had taken two hours to calm him down. 

“Okay. Should we go see what’s going on?” North asked, standing and holding his hand out to the dragon. Theta hesitated, then extended his foreleg, a single talon resting carefully in North’s palm for a second before he pulled back and crouched. North swung easily onto the dragon’s back, settling just in front of the point where his wings joined his back, and patted Theta’s neck to let him know he was ready. 

Theta tensed, muscles coiling beneath his scales before he launched himself off the tower, wings stretched wide as they soared out, far enough from the tower that it wouldn’t cause any problems when Theta beat his wings, pushing them higher and higher. North couldn’t help the grin that stretched across his face as Theta tilted sharply, angling toward the hatchery. 

They were halfway there when a green dragon slightly larger than Theta dropped in beside them. 

“You saw them, too, huh?” a familiar voice called from the green dragon’s back. 

“Hey, York!” North shouted over the wind of the two dragons’ wingbeats. “I’m surprised you didn’t just wait at the landing field!” York was always the first one to greet Carolina’s squad when they landed, which was always especially helpful if their mission hadn’t gone perfectly. 

“Delta talked me into waiting long enough for her to lecture the others before we got there,” York explained, patting the dragon’s shoulder affectionately. “He’s definitely the smart one here.” 

“That is not difficult, all things considered,” Delta rumbled before plunging into a sharp dive that made York yelp and clutch at his scales to keep from flying off his back. 

North bit back a snicker as Theta tilted into a much less wild dive, spiraling down to the hatchery landing field and landing neatly beside Delta, who looked way too pleased with himself considering York appeared to have tumbled off his back, not necessarily on purpose. 

“You’re spending too much time with Epsilon,” North informed the green dragon as he slid off of Theta’s back. 

“That is a matter of opinion,” Delta replied crisply, tucking his wings against his back and arching his neck in an entirely unapologetic manner. 

“I think York agrees,” North said, nudging his friend with his foot. York groaned and pushed himself up, taking North’s hand when he offered it and letting himself be pulled to his feet. 

“Definitely.” York grimaced and glanced over to the fiver dragons and their riders clustered at the other end of the landing field. “But if I stop letting him hang out with Epsilon, I’ll never have a chance to see Carolina.” 

“North? North, I was right. They’re kids like me.” Theta’s voice was softer and shakier than usual. North glanced at him, then followed the dragon’s gaze to where four kids who couldn’t be more than seven or eight were being ushered inside the hatchery. 

“Recruits, maybe?” North murmured, frowning. Dragoon recruits usually didn’t come to the Capital until they were teenagers, but maybe the Wizard was trying something new, like with the dragons he’d specially bred for his top two units? 

“No, it’s...it’s scary here, North.” Theta was trembling, wings pressed to his back as he crouched, trying to make himself small enough to hide behind North. 

“Theta? What’s wrong?” North turned to him, running his hands over the dragon’s scaly neck in an attempt to soothe him. 

“North?” York’s voice was sharp with concern. “What-” North cut him off with a sharp look and returned his attention to the suddenly terrified dragon in front of him.

“I can’t remember,” Theta whimpered. “I can’t...please, North, can we go? It  _ hurt, _ I don’t want to be here.” 

“What? What hurt, Theta?” North tried to keep his voice calm and even, but it was getting more difficult with the way Theta kept trying to shrink in on himself. 

“Please, North. I wanna go home. I wanna go  _ home!” _ Theta’s voice rose as his trembling got worse, until his whole body was shaking, his claws flexing, gauging the earth beneath him as his tail tucked close to his body. 

“Okay. Okay, we’ll go home. I need you to focus, Theta, okay? Focus for me, let’s get you out of here.” Greeting the returning squad could wait. North needed to get Theta somewhere he felt safe so he could figure out what was happening. Theta had been to the hatchery landing field a hundred times; he’d never reacted like this. 

“We can help.” North barely glanced away from Theta when he heard Wash’s voice, trying to ease the dragon toward the side of the landing field farthest from the hatchery. Their quarters weren’t far; if he could just get Theta there, maybe that would help. “Iota, do your thing.” Theta let out a low whine, pressing into North’s hands on his scaly neck. Wash’s blue dragon touched her muzzle to Theta’s shoulder, and the shaking eased after a moment. Iota must have used her ability to increase positive feelings in others, because while Theta still seemed upset, he was a lot calmer. 

“Thanks,” North muttered, finally able to guide Theta toward their quarters. The dragon kept as close to North’s side as possible, his talons occasionally tripping North up. Iota and Washington followed them, Iota occasionally stretching forward to nudge Theta’s flank, either reassuring him or renewing her ability. North wasn’t exactly clear on how that magic worked, but he also didn’t have a lot of time to think about it.

Between training and missions, he didn’t have a lot of time to think about much at all. 

Missions. 

The kids.

That’s what was different about this time. Something about seeing children heading into the hatchery had set Theta off, terrified him more than pretty much anything else North had ever seen. 

“I think York went to find the rest of your squad,” Washington said softly as they reached the quarters North and Theta shared, equipped as all of the their squads’ quarters were with two doorways, one large enough for Theta and covered with an opaque magical barrier that only allowed dragons through, and the other a normal human door. North coaxed Theta to go through the barrier, opening the door to follow him. 

“Thanks, Wash. Sorry to cut into your down time,” North replied. He glanced at Iota and added, “You, too. Thank you.” 

“Anything for the little one,” Iota rumbled, glancing worriedly after Theta. 

“I’ll send someone if we need you,” North promised. Iota’s tail tip twitched, surprised he had caught her, maybe. North gave her a tired smile before ducking into his quarters. As the door closed, he heard Washington suggest they go find Maine and Sigma. “Hey, Theta, how you doing, buddy?” North asked, heading to Theta’s nest against the wall by the dragon door. 

“Scared. Sorry.” Theta curled up, hiding his head beneath his wing, his tail tucked around his body almost like a cat. North sat with his back against Theta’s flank and scratched gently at the dragon’s jaw where it wasn’t completely hidden by his wing. 

“It’s okay, Theta. It’s okay,” North assured him, keeping up the soft scratching. “Just breathe, okay?” North kept talking until Theta drifted off into a fitful sleep, letting out soft whimpers and twitching occasionally. If North didn’t know better, he’d say the sounds Theta made in his sleep sounded more human than dragon. 

But that was ridiculous. Theta was a dragon. 

Sure, he was special; he could talk, while other dragons just communicated by pushing images and feelings into their riders’ head; and Theta, like the other talking dragons, had two magical abilities instead of the normal one: fire breathing and generating a shield out of air magic. 

But the rest of his squad’s dragons had the same abilities, so it wasn’t like Theta was unique. 

He was just part of a new breed of dragon, one the Wizard had been working on to hunt down witches more easily. 

That was the end of it.

It had to be. 

North sighed and settled more comfortably against Theta, wondering if South would stop by before his squad came to check on them.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to let me know if you like this; the more response I get, the quicker I can gather my motivation to keep writing!


	4. Chapter 4

North didn’t realize he had fallen asleep leaning against Theta until York was shaking him awake.

“Huh?” North blinked up at him, trying to figure out why York was there and why North wasn’t in bed. His back was sore from napping upright against a dragon, and it didn’t help when Theta shifted and the support for North’s back disappeared, leaving him to tumble backwards into an ungraceful sprawl.

“Come on, the Captain needs us.” York’s voice was low and serious. Delta sticking his head through the dragon door just emphasized the point.

“Which one?” North sighed as he pushed himself up, wincing as the movement made his back ache worse.

“Tex. She’s on the warpath.”

“Did Carolina do something?” North asked. The two captains’ rivalry was so well known, even the blacksmiths who repaired their weapons made jokes about it.

“I don’t think so. Just come on.” North grimaced and followed, Theta warily on his heels, still nervous from freaking out before. North stuck close to his dragon, keeping an eye out for signs of another breakdown. North kept quiet as they left their squad’s quarters, sure that if York was serious enough not to joke even without being entirely sure what was actually happening, it wasn’t something they would want to talk about indoors, where the Wizard or his people could hear.

So it only made sense when York climbed onto Delta’s back and insisted Theta and North follow them, or when they left the Capital altogether, landing in the hills outside the city.

Captain Texas and her huge gray behemoth of a dragon, Omega, were waiting, along with CT and her dragon, Xi. North felt a pang as he noticed the spot on CT’s other side where Georgia and his dragon, Alpha, would have been if they hadn’t gone missing.

There was a new dragon, too, a bright teal hatchling the size of a cat that North had never seen before.

“What’s the problem, Captain?” North asked as he slid off of Theta’s back, noticing how his dragon’s attention was immediately ensnared by the much smaller dragon in their midst.

“This is Dragon Zeta, the latest of the Wizard’s new breed,” Tex explained. “Except…”

“I want my fucking dad, you assholes!” the little dragon squeaked. North stared. York made a sound like he’d been tripped and was about to fall on his face.

“What the…”

“It gets worse,” Tex grimaced. “CT?”

“When I was called in to take custody of Zeta-“

“Not my name!” the hatchling insisted, stubby wings flapping furiously.

“What is it, then?” North asked, hoping that maybe a soothing tone would calm the little dragon.

“Dad said not to talk to strangers!” the hatchling hissed.

“Then were just going to keep calling you Zeta until you tell us what your name actually is,” Tex sighed.

“Anyway. When I went to get Zeta, there was something else in the hatching room.” CT shuddered, and Xi curled closer to her, bronze muzzle nudging comfortingly at her shoulder. “A little kid. A human kid. He wasn’t moving, and…”

“The Wizard said he would have three more dragons ready as soon as the rest of Zeta’s clutch started to crack.” Tex’s voice was hard, angry like North had never heard it.

“I don’t understand.”

“Like me…” Theta whispered, creeping forward with his muzzle against the ground so he could bump his snout against Zeta’s tiny one. “He’s like me.”

“Dragons are not supposed to be able to talk or possess multiple abilities.” It was Delta who spoke, his tone careful, like he was sounding out an idea, piecing something together. “That is why we are not supposed to speak to anyone outside Captain Texas’ or Captain Carolina’s units. The Wizard is hiding us for some reason.”

“Zeta is here, and then there’ll be three more soon, after no new dragons in a while,” York added, horror dawning in his voice.

“Carolina’s squad brought in four kids today.” North forced the words past the rising nausea.

“North?” Theta’s voice was shaking. “North, he’s...he’s…”

“Theta…” North turned to his dragon, who had always been a little too childish, a little too naïve for a mature dragon. Delta had always been too intelligent, even beyond the speaking. He talked like he’d been educated, using longer words and more complex sentences than there was any way he’d picked up from the squad. North had never seen the kind of rage Omega sometimes showed in an animal before. Xi had a habit of complimenting people, which North realized was kind of weird for a dragon to do, all things considered.

“They’re...they’re _people.”_

North felt like he was going to throw up.

“I don’t know exactly what the Wizard did, but it’s...its _wrong.”_ Tex’s voice was steel and fury, and North realized she had a plan. A wave of pure rage washed over him, and he realized it was Omega’s ability giving them all a taste of what the dragon and his human partner felt at their realization.

“North? Am I...wrong?” Theta was watching him, eyes wide with fear and worry. “Everyone’s mad, and I don’t know-“

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Theta,” North growled. When the dragon flinched, he forced himself to calm down, or at least hide Omega’s rage seething beneath his skin. He didn’t try to push the anger away completely; it was more productive than the nausea from realizing Theta acted like a little kid because he _fucking was._ “No one is mad at you, okay? We’re mad because someone did something to you and the others, and that was wrong.” North knew he wasn’t completely successful at managing his tone, but he must have done a good enough job, because Theta seemed to relax a little, at least enough to stretch out his nose and nudge the hatchling again.

“Fuck off!” The little dragon hissed, swatting at Theta’s nose, making the much larger dragon pull back abruptly with an indignant whine.

“He’s scared, too,” North pointed out. “Don’t touch him if he doesn’t want you to, Theta.” Keeping an eye on the dragons, North directed the rest of his attention to his squad. “What are we going to do?”

“Take out the Wizard’s hatchery. We’ll take the other kids with us, and destroy anything magic we can find. If we’re lucky, the Wizard keeps his spellbook or materials there, and destroying them will mean he won’t be able to do _this_ again anytime soon,” Tex explained.

North thought that was a pretty great idea, and he was about to say so when the hair on the back of his back stood on end, the air charging with energy that he couldn’t pinpoint the cause of.

Then his eyes landed on Zeta, whose scales were sparking.

“What-“

“I want to go _home,_ you assholes!” The energy in the air grew, well beyond what would have been generated by a hatchling with a few sparks on his hide. Zeta’s eyes widened, his head turning to stare past Omega. _“Dad!”_ Zeta shrieked, charging between Omega and Xi and up the hill before anyone could stop him. Little guy was _fast._ North and the others looked up to the top of the hill the hatchling was climbing and found what appeared to be a royally pissed lightning mage at the top, brandishing a sword that crackled with enough electricity to give Theta’s air magic shields a run for their money.

“Well, shit.”

* * *

 

Tucker saw the dragons landing, disappearing into one of the hollows between the hills outside the city, just on the other side of one of the hills surrounding the hollow he and the other witches had stopped in to plan their move against the Capital.

“Tucker, no,” Church warned.

“Fuck that. Tucker yes. Those assholes took Junior!” Tucker was stomping up the hill, sword in hand. He could feel his magic coursing through him. It didn’t bother a slow rise to the surface this time, jumping straight to crackling over his skin and along the sword, sparking and hissing.

“Caboose, stop him!” Church ordered.

“Yes, well, I do not like static,” Caboose mumbled, showing a potentially healthy amount of self preservation for the first and most inconvenient time. Church whirled on the Reds and Kai.

“He’s your witch. You stop him,” Grif grumbled, plopping down onto the long grass and making himself comfortable.

“I have _water magic,_ you moron!” Church glared at them.

“So do I! Don’t look at me!” Simmons squeaked, ducking behind Sarge.

“Grif! Your magic is the more effective against lightning! Get off your lazy ass and-”

Tucker ignored them; he had reached the top of the hill just in time to hear a much better voice coming from the hollow below.

“I want to go _home,_ you asshole!”

Junior.

That was his son’s voice.

They had _his son._

Tucker’s lightning arched from his skin, the sword glowing white-hot with the electricity in it. Magic sparked in his eyes, dripped from the tip of his sword, the fingers on his free hand, and even the ends of his dreads.

He was getting his son back, and he was going to _vaporize_ anyone in his way.

 _“Dad!”_ There was something scampering up the hill, but it didn’t look like Junior. It looked like...a dragon? A baby dragon? What the _fuck_ why would they bring a baby dragon out here? “Dad! Dad, it’s me!”

The dragon was talking.

Dragons don’t talk.

Dragons don’t sound like his son.

“What. The. Fuck.” Tucker stared down at the little teal hatchling as it reached him, rearing up and scrambling at his leg with its tiny little talons.

“Dad! It was scary and then it hurt and it was dark and then I was a _dragon!_ I want to go home!” That was definitely Junior’s voice. The hatchling was using Junior’s voice. It recognized him.

The lightning magic stopped flickering and surged around him with even greater force.

“You.” He glared at the dragons and Dragoons below. “What. The. Fucking. Shit. Did you do. To my _kid.”_

“We’re fucked.” One of the Dragoons, a one-eyed bastard who was standing beside a green dragon that was definitely large enough to kidnap a few kids in its talons, seemed reasonable afraid of the amount of magic Tucker was radiating.

“It’s just one witch.” That one was confident. Cocky. She was getting zapped first, Tucker decided. “Subdue him. Don’t hurt him. If he really is Zeta’s father…”

“That’s not my _fucking name!”_ the hatchling-Junior screeched.

“You tell ‘em, kiddo,” Tucker grinned, pointing his sword at the leader as the Dragoons readied their own weapons, their dragons baring their teeth in preparation for a fight.

“Tucker, wait! You can’t take them all alone.” Church was there, having apparently decided it was better to follow Tucker and help him than just watch the Dragoons slaughter him.

“Fucking _watch me,”_ Tucker retorted. “I think they turned Junior into a fucking _dragon.”_

“What…” Church stared down at the hatchling. The hatchling stared back at him.

“Mist fucker,” the hatchling greeted him with a sharp nod.

“Yep, that’s Junior.” Church groaned and turned toward the Dragoons, who were all...staring at him? “The fuck?”

“Georgia?” the Dragoon leader asked.

“I believe that voice belongs to-” The green dragon broke off as the purple one charged forward. Tucker braced himself, ready to zap the dragon as soon as it was close enough, only for the creature to just crash to a stop in front of Church and shove its snout in his face. Tucker swung his sword; Church was an asshole, but Tucker wasn’t about to let him be dragon food.

“Alpha!”

Tucker barely managed to stop his sword from hitting and shocking the scales off of the huge, purple menace that was _purring_ as it nuzzled at Church.

“You’re in Georgia now!”

“What the actual fuck?” Tucker stared at the dragon, his lightning fading as shock replaced the protective fury he’d been channeling before. The dragon kept purring and nuzzling Church. Church looked like he was going to explode. The Dragoons and other dragons started up the hill, but they looked more bewildered than threatening.

“Someone get this thing off me!” Church shouted, trying to back away from the purple dragon, which followed him, seemingly unfazed by Church’s escape attempt.

“Theta-” One of the Dragoons stepped forward, only for someone else to get there first.

“Leave Church alone!” Caboose had arrived, and to the blatant confusion and terror of the Dragoons, he went right up to Theta and pushed the dragon’s head away from Church, despite the growling and struggling of the purple creature whose head alone was the size of Caboose’s torso.

“That...shouldn’t be possible,” the one who was apparently in charge of the purple dragon looked like he was having a really rough day. Served the asshole right.

“What the fuck kind of witches _are_ you?” The Dragoon leader was staring at them. Tucker wasn’t sure what that expression was supposed to be, but he didn’t like it. He tried to bring his lightning back, but it wasn’t working now, because of _fucking course_ it wasn’t.

“The kind that’re gonna kick your ass!”

“And the Reds are here.” Church groaned.

“How many of you _are there?”_ the other female Dragoon demanded, taking a step back as the Reds spread out alongside the Blues. That gave Tucker a brilliant idea.

“Enough to wipe all of you out if you don’t let me take Junior and leave.” Tucker scooped up the hatchling and held him close to his chest with one hand, brandishing his sword defensively in the other.

“Good.” The leader was smirking now, shocking witches and Dragoons alike.

“Wait, Captain, why-”

“We were _just_ talking about fucking up the Wizard’s shit. I bet the protective dad and his friends here would like to ruin the Wizard’s day, too, since he’s the one that’s been turning people into dragons.”

"Why the fuck should we trust you?" Church sneered. 

"You shouldn't. But we're going to fuck shit up with or without you." The Dragoon leader's smirk grew dangerously sharp. "So, you in?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> North v South and Wash makes a Choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for TheFoolXXII_Max_X  
> You wanted freelancers and stupid witches. I give you: Wash Meets the Idiots

North watched as the coven - two covens? - of witches headed for the hatchery. The one they kept calling Tucker was all sparky again, which North was beginning to suspect wasn’t entirely on purpose. For someone with a truly dangerous amount of lightning magic, Tucker seemed to have little to no control. North hadn’t decided yet if that made him more threatening or less. 

Theta whined as the body of Georgia possessed by the soul of the dragon Alpha - former human Alpha? - calling himself Church went with the witches. 

Theta had been close with Alpha before he and Georgia vanished, and he clearly didn’t like being separated from his...were they friends? They seemed like it. North tried not to wonder if they had known each other before becoming dragons. He could deal with all of that  _ after _ they made sure this wouldn’t happen to anyone else. 

“Don’t get left behind, North.” He jolted and refocused on his surroundings. Tex was watching him solemnly. Her smirk from earlier had morphed into something more serious, and Omega was pacing at her back, a low snarl on his lips.

“Where to first?” he asked. 

“The witches have the hatchery, so we’re going to find the Wizard.” 

“Are you sure they can handle-” CT broke off as they heard a shout from the hatchery. 

“Hey, Caboose! Why don’t you help that guard over there?” That was Alpha’s voice, and it was followed immediately by a stream of fire that exploded a few windows and erupted out the hatchery door. 

“I said the  _ guard, _ not Sarge!”

“Tucker did it!” 

“I think they’ve got this,” North sighed. “So where do we find the Wizard?”

“He was headed to the training grounds, to evaluate some of the other Dragoons,” CT answered. “He said something about choosing Zeta’s partner.” 

“That’s where we’re going, then,” Tex decided. 

“What’s going on?” North tensed, recognizing that voice. The whole squad turned to find South and Eta staring past them at the flames engulfing the hatchery. “We have to-”

“No, we don’t.” Tex’s voice was somewhere between steely and dismissive. “What the Wizard is doing is wrong, South. We’re going to stop him.”

For a second, North was sure South would give in. Would at least hear them out. Then she drew her sword.

“Eta. Do your thing.” The bronze dragon drew himself up to his full height and  _ bellowed, _ a wave of energy accompanying the sound. It hit North and his squad like a physical force, knocking all of them back a step. North could feel his knees weakening, his heart rate picking up as fear jumped to clog his breathing and interfere with anything he might try to do. 

“Omega!” Tex shouted. The gray dragon snarled, his own energy spreading, overriding Eta’s fear and replacing it with rage. North tightened his grip on his crossbow and managed to keep the anger from driving him into pointing the weapon at his sister’s head. 

“Captain! I can handle this!” North called. “Theta, shield!” Theta obeyed with a screech caught between terror and fury, air magic shimmering around them, enclosing South and Eta, along with North and Theta. 

“North, are you-”

“Go. My sister and I need a little family time,” North insisted, bringing his crossbow up. 

“Good luck.” It was York who spoke. “We’ll take care of the rest.” North nodded without looking away from South, who was scowling at him. 

“I won’t go easy on you,” she warned, advancing. Eta hissed and echoed her movement, tail lashing from side to side. 

“Theta. Can you handle Eta’s fear?” North moved to the side, keeping South and her dragon in front of him. 

“I don’t know…” Theta shifted, too, keeping North between him and their opponents. 

“I’m gonna need you to trust me, then, okay, buddy?”

“North?”

“I know you can handle it, Theta. Keep the shield up, bear with the fear, and I’ll take care of the rest, okay?” Theta let out a whimper, and North bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from making a sound as Eta’s power washed over them. North took a breath, steadied his hands where they shook on his weapon, and leveled it at South’s leg. “That won’t work out the way you want it to,” he warned. 

“You’re just scared to get your ass kicked,” South taunted. “And you’re too scared of hurting me to shoot.” 

He was scared. 

Not just because of Eta, but that didn’t help. 

If he failed, and South went after his squad, or even the witches, she could die. Losing his sister, on top of everything else he was about to lose - his home, his position, the whole world he’d grown up in - that scared him more than anything. 

North pulled the trigger, and South’s shriek mingled with Eta’s furious roar.

* * *

 

Wash was on his way to the training grounds. Carolina had told them to meet for training, like they hadn’t just been on a mission for like a week. 

“She never stops,” Maine signed, offering what was probably supposed to be a sympathetic look, even though Wash was pretty sure Maine wasn’t bothered at all by the training regimine Carolina insisted on. 

“Maybe York will find her and distract her, and then she won’t insist on sparring with everyone,” Wash muttered. Maine gave him a perfectly flat look, and Wash sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Realistic goals. Maybe the Captain will pick me first and kick my ass quickly, and then my embarrassment will be over for the day.” Maine patted his shoulder, and Wash shook his head, resigning himself. 

An explosion in the direction of the hatchery caught their attention. For a second, Wash was frozen, even as Maine snapped his fingers, and Sigma plunged to the ground from where he’d been gliding overhead. 

Maine was on the red dragon’s back and holding his hand out before Wash could even register Sigma’s arrival. He took Maine’s hand and was hauled onto the dragon’s back just in time to yelp and cling to Maine as Sigma launched into the air. Iota was circling, and she chirped in amusement at Wash, who glared at her. 

The dragons angled toward the hatchery, which was billowing smoke and halfway engulfed with flames. The fire crackled and hissed as they landed, and Wash tumbled from Sigma’s back and ended up in a heap. Maine dismounted in a more purposeful fashion and held a hand out to Wash, who took it easily, as always, and let himself be pulled up again, this time to his own feet. 

Hatchlings scampered from the back door, heading for the adult dragon quarters near the hatchery, seeking the safety of their elders. 

“The eggs,” Wash realized. “Iota, can you-” His dragon was ahead of him, a sweep of her wings sending out air currents that sucked the smoke and flames into the sky. “Thanks.” Iota rumbled, sending a pulse of comfort out to the fleeing hatchlings, calming their blind panic. The little dragons paused, glancing around, then continued their scampering toward the adults. Good. They’d be safe, and hopefully not traumatized by the hatchery being on fire. 

Speaking of which…how had the hatchery even…

Oh. 

There were shapes inside, moving among the embers and ash. 

They stepped out a moment later, each cluster surrounded by a cocoon of water that swirled around them, probably to filter out the heat and smoke from the fire. 

“Is that all of them?” one of them asked, setting down an armful of dragon eggs. Several of the others carried similar burdens, which they set outside the ruins of the hatchery. Two carried nothing - probably the water witches, one per group - and one carried a teal hatchling. Three of the kids Wash’s squad had brought in hovered near the eggs, looking around anxiously.

“Witches.” Wash unsheathed his knives, and Maine drew his heavy broadsword. 

“Ah, shit. Dragoons.” One of the water witches saw them first. 

“Are they our friends, too?” The biggest of the witches sounded enthusiastic, and Wash had no clue what he meant. 

“They’re not from the squad we met earlier,” the other water witch noted. “So I’m going to go with not on our side.” 

“Okay, then. Caboose, those two are your new friends. You should say hello,” the first water witch announced. The big one - Caboose? -  _ beamed _ and  _ charged straight at them. _

“Hooray!”

“Iota!” Wash yelped. The dragon curled her tail around him and swept it toward the charging witch, hitting him solidly in the stomach. A blow like that was usually enough to knock the breath out of any attacker, and it usually sent them flying, but this one just kind of wrapped himself around Iota’s tail. 

“We are going to be friends!” Caboose cheered, clinging to Iota’s tail as she tried to shake him loose, lashing her tail around and slamming him against the ground a few times, but he just...kept clinging. 

“What the  _ fuck?” _ Wash whispered, softly and with a lot of feeling. Maine didn’t wait any longer, advancing on the witches, swinging his broadsword effortlessly despite the thing being nearly as big as Maine himself. Maine got into range and brought the sword up, fully intending to cleave one of the witches in half. 

“Donut! Sword!” one of the closer witches - he wasn’t one of the water ones, what kind of magic did he have? - yelled, and yet another witch - burn scars marred the right side of his face, he was definitely a fire witch - darted forward, and fucking, just... _ caught Maine’s sword, _ one hand on the guard and the other on the hilt, covering Maine’s hand. 

“I’m not used to taking something this big, but don’t worry! I can handle it!” the fire witch exclaimed.

_ “What the fuck?” _ Wash repeated, more softly, with even more feeling. 

If Maine was thrown off, he didn’t show it, calmly pushing the sword down bit by bit toward the witch’s face. The witch grimaced, straining, while Maine didn’t seem troubled at all, even shifting his weight onto one foot so he could bring the other up and drive it into the witch’s stomach. The witch wheezed and tumbled to the side, just barely avoiding getting cut in half by Maine’s sword, which dug into the ground. Maine grunted and started to pull his sword free, only for the ground to shift and wrap around the sword. 

One of the witches - the second biggest, a heavyset man who was smirking at the way the ground swallowed Maine’s sword, so he was probably the earth witch - lunged forward and wrapped his arms around one of Maine’s before letting the rest of his body go limp, so he was just dead weight dragging Maine down. 

“There! I did my part! You assholes do the rest!” the earth witch announced. 

Wash started forward, ready to assist, onto to find himself confronted with three of the others. One was holding the hatchling still, sparks dancing over the skin of man and hatchling alike, their identical electric blue eyes a little unnerving, Wash wasn’t gonna lie. Pretty, but unnerving. 

Wash shook himself out of his thoughts as the other two flanked him. One was the only female witch in their group, and she had flames twisting around her body. The other was the water witch who’d noticed Wash and Maine first, the one who had sicced Caboose on Iota. 

Wash held his knives at the ready, sidestepping to put his back to Iota’s flank so they couldn’t get behind him. 

“Sigma!” Wash called. “Are you going to help Maine or what?”

“Maine can handle himself,” the red dragon huffed. 

_ “Sigma!” _ Wash risked a glance at the red dragon, and that’s when the witches moved. 

“Get him!” Fire erupted on one side of him, thick mist reaching for him on the other, and the witch with the hatchling came down the middle, sword out and crackling with electricity. 

Wash could handle a sword, especially with how clumsily this witch was swinging it. He deflected the blade toward the fire witch with one knife and sent the other flying through the air, through the mist, toward the water witch. 

_ This _ was what Wash had signed up for. 

Fighting witches, making sure they couldn’t use their magic to destroy anything.

This was what he had trained for, and even if Carolina could still kick his ass, he could handle three witches who didn’t seem to have too much skill with their magic.

“Shit!” the water witch’s mist must help him sense his surroundings, because he managed to dodge the knife as Wash drew another from one of the many sheathes hidden on his body. The sword came back again, and this time when Wash deflected it, he pushed forward, fully intending to drive the blade home through the witch’s ribs. He nearly hit the hatchling, but he managed to lower the blade at the last second, plunging it into the lightning witch’s stomach instead. The hatchling let out a screech that only escalated when the witch went down.

“Tucker!” the fire witch charged, fire surrounding her fists. Wash danced backwards, forgetting that Iota was right there. He hit her flank, drawing a disgruntled squeak from her. 

“Wash!” Iota complained, dropping her wing over Wash, on top of the fire witch to knock her down. “I still have one on my tail!” 

“Working on it,” Wash muttered, ducking out from under Iota’s wing to confront the water witch. 

“Your dragon’s a person, too?” The water witch seemed surprised and disgusted. “Fuck, how many  _ are _ there?”

“Person?” Wash repeated. “What-”

“You hurt my dad!” the hatchling had stopped screeching and was crouched on top of the lightning witch, snarling at Wash, and  _ yelling at him. _

“Your…” 

Wash gaped at the hatchling. 

He knew that voice. 

Wash crouched, ignoring the water witch, who seemed too stunned by Wash’s reaction to do anything. Iota stretched her wing again and bowled him over just in case. She swept the water and fire witch into a pile with her tail, which still had the big one clinging to it.

“You’re the...the kid.” Wash should have recognized it when the hatchling cried out; he’d heard the same fearful screech when Wyoming and Gamma had snatched him and the others from the field. The fourth kid, the one that wasn’t hiding behind the eggs with the others. “Holy shit.” 

“You kidnapped me! And then you hurt my dad!” the little dragon half wailed. Wash stared down at his knife, covered in blood. Then lifted his gaze and met the hatchling’s. 

_ I didn’t sign up for this. _

“Iota.” 

“Wash?” Something in his tone made the dragon wary. Or maybe she was just as thrown off by Wash’s realization as he was. 

“The witch. And the hatchling. Can you…?” The blood was spreading, fuck, the hatchling’s talons were in it. 

It wasn’t bad enough Wash had followed orders and helped kidnap the kid, now the kid was a  _ goddamn dragon, _ and Wash had just  _ stabbed his dad. _

Sure, his dad was a lightning witch, and on any other day, in any other circumstance, he would be proud of having taken down a lightning witch, but right now…

Right now, Wash wanted to throw up.

“Washington…” Iota hesitated. “Aren’t you…” She didn’t have to finish the sentence; Wash heard it anyway. 

_ Aren’t you a Dragoon? A witch hunter? _

“Not today. Not that one,” Wash insisted, staring at the hatchling. “Kid’s been through enough.” Iota stretched her neck toward the fallen lightning witch. 

“I need you to move, little one,” Iota murmured, huffing gently. The hatchling blinked, relaxing reluctantly under the influence of Iota’s magic. He didn’t move, but he wasn’t braced enough to resist when Iota nudged him out of the way. 

“Don’t touch him!” the hatchling cried, swiping at Iota’s muzzle as she touched it to the bloody wound in the witch’s stomach. When she drew back a moment later, blood was smeared over her scales, but it wasn’t flowing from the witch’s stomach anymore. 

“He will be fine.” Iota turned her attention to Wash before staring past him. “You and I, on the other hand…” Wash followed her gaze and found Sigma and Maine staring at them, the witches they had been fighting in a groaning heap off to the side. 

“Iota, can you swamp them?” Wash asked. 

“That’s dangerous.” 

“So is waiting for them to decide if they’re going to fight us or just try to kill the witch we just saved,” Wash snapped.

“I’ll need your help.” Iota shifted, gathering the lighting witch and the bewildered hatchling who was - used to be? - his son with a sweep of her tail and scooting them to the pile of witches behind her. 

“Washington!” Sigma snarled. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t,” Maine added, his fingers forming the same sign again and again. “Don’t.” 

“I’m sorry, Maine. I didn’t want to take those kids. I’m not going to make this one lose everything all over again.” Wash held his hand out, palm flat. “Take what you need, Iota.” His dragon pressed her muzzle against his palm, and the world went hazy and shimmery as a flood of Iota’s happiness poured into her targets.

Sigma flopped onto his side, rolled onto his back and started purring mindlessly. 

Maine sank to one knee, signing Wash’s name repeatedly. 

Wash felt himself swaying, dizziness kicking in from letting Iota drain him for her power.

He heard someone - one of the witches? - say something that sounded like a bewildered  _ what the actual fuck _ before the world went black. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo I have two options for Wash and I can’t decide which I want.  
> 1\. Wash wakes up in fucking jail  
> 2\. Wash wakes up in Blood Gulch  
> Sooo I’m taking opinions? Can’t promise I’ll follow requests but since it’ll be a chapter or two before I jump to Wash again I figured I would see what y’all think?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> York has a bad day.  
> Tucker's day gets worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a fight in this chapter, so I've added a canon-typical violence tag, and if I need to tag it for graphic violence I will.  
> Also, I couldn't get this chapter out yesterday because I had to rewrite the first scene like three times until I got something I was mostly okay with.

As soon as York reached the training grounds alongside Tex and CT, he knew this wasn’t going to go well. Wyoming and Carolina were there, along with their dragons and a dozen or so Dragoon trainees. Instead of being in the middle of a training exercise, they were all lined up, weapons drawn, watching. 

Waiting for them. 

“Captain Texas.” Carolina stepped forward first. “The Wizard says you let a coven of witches into the Capital and let them destroy the hatchery.” 

“Two covens, actually,” Tex replied with a shrug. “The Wizard needs to be stopped, Carolina. He’s-”

“Take them down.” Carolina wasn’t waiting around for an explanation. York knew that look in her eye, knew she would never listen to her rival. 

“CT, get Wyoming. York-”

“I’ll handle Carolina,” York volunteered. 

“Are you sure?” They only had seconds before the trainees reached them.

“I’m sure. She might listen to me.”

“Fine. I’ll handle the small fry and go on ahead, then. Omega!” Tex’s dragon reared back and flapped his wings, sending a sharp gust of wind through the training grounds that bowled the trainees backwards. Wyoming and Carolina ducked behind their own dragons, which gave Tex the opportunity to charge between them and descend on the trainees. 

Omega followed with a snarl.

York almost felt bad for them. 

“Get back here!” Carolina was charging after Tex. York had to stop her; he didn’t want to see what a full-blown fight to the death between Carolina and Tex would look like. 

“Delta, stop her!” Ice sprang up around Carolina’s ankles, tripping her up. She pitched forward, hitting the ground with a furious shout. “Shit, D, I said stop her, not piss her off!” York complained as he ran towards her. Carolina smashed the ice against the ground, shattering it, and got to her feet as York closed the distance between them. 

“What are you doing, York?” Carolina was definitely pissed. York held up his hands, palms out, trying to show he wasn’t a threat and he didn’t want to fight. 

“The right thing.” 

“How is  _ this _ the right thing?” Carolina demanded, throwing her arm out towards where Tex was barreling through the poor trainees, Omega at her back. “How is any of this  _ right?” _ Wyoming and CT were locked in combat, swords coming together again and again in a harsh clash of metal. Xi and Gamma were clawing at each other, bronze and blue scales speckled with blood.

“The Wizard…” York hesitated, seeing the way Carolina’s gaze hardened. “Carolina, please just listen. The dragons...the Wizard used  _ people _ to make them.” 

“That’s ridiculous.”

“But-”

“Even if you’re right, how is bringing  _ witches _ into the Capital the right way to handle it?” Carolina’s voice was sharp, bitter. “How is betraying everything you’ve worked for, everything you...why is betraying  _ me _ your answer?” 

“It isn’t.” York stepped forward, took her hands in his. “It doesn’t have to be. You can help us, Carolina. Get the truth from the Wizard, put a stop to this, and then we can deal with the witches. We don’t have to be on opposite sides of this.” 

“You’re right, we don’t have to be on opposite sides.” York’s shoulders slumped in relief. “You’re the one who’s forcing us to be enemies here.” She twisted her hands in his, gripping his wrists, and yanked him closer, right into her knee as it came up to hit his stomach. York doubled over, blindsided by the blow. He barely managed to catch his breath and straighten up to protest. 

“Shit! Carolina, wait-”

“Epsilon. Take Delta down.” 

“Carolina? Are you-”   
“Just do it, Epsilon.” The light blue dragon sighed before throwing himself at Delta, slamming into him and sinking his fangs into the green dragon’s shoulder. Delta’s cried out, thrashing in Epsilon’s hold, talons lashing out and plunging into Epsilon’s side. The blue dragon had leverage, keeping Delta pinned, but the gashes from Delta’s claws would slow him down.

“Carolina, please-” York broke off with a wheeze as Carolina drove her knee into his stomach again. This time, when he crumbled, she let him fall. 

“You made your choice,” Carolina snapped. “It’s time for me to make mine.” She drew her sword, and York realized that she could kill him right then and there. In her mind, he’d betrayed her, it would be his own fault if he died here. Cold metal at his throat matched the chill in her voice as she continued. “Delta. You and York lost. Give up.” 

“York?” Delta’s whine became a screech as Epsilon shook his head, shaking Delta in his grip and causing his fangs to tear through more of the green dragon’s shoulder.

“Surrender, and you both get to live.” 

Was she...really going to kill him if Delta didn’t surrender? He got that she was pissed, honestly. But usually the double blow to the gut was enough to get the anger out of her. 

“Carolina! Little help?” York distantly recognized Wyoming’s voice. 

“Yeah, sure.” Carolina crouched, keeping her sword terrifyingly close to York’s neck, and picked up a crossbow one of the trainees must’ve dropped when Tex mowed them all down. York heard the twang of the cord as Carolina pulled the trigger, then a cry from CT. 

“Shit!” York rolled away from Carolina’s sword, but only managed to make it onto his stomach before there was a foot between his shoulder blades. He lifted his head, staring in CT’s direction, and saw her on the ground with a crossbow bolt in her side. 

A shriek of fury dragged his attention to where Xi must have been distracted by CT’s shout, because the bronze dragon was no longer in a bloody stalemate with Gamma. Instead, Xi was on the ground, Gamma standing over her, fangs bared and dripping blood. 

He lunged.

Xi thrashed against the fangs in her neck, then went still. 

York was frozen. 

That couldn’t...no way. They couldn’t have…

York was almost glad when Carolina swore and knocked him on the head with her sword hilt. 

At least he didn’t have to finish processing what he’d just seen, or hear the awful, inhuman sound CT made as her dragon’s blood soaked into the earth.

* * *

 

Tucker woke up with two dragon heads hovering over him. One was tiny, like the size of a cat’s head, and the little teal creature seemed awfully worried about him. The other was  _ so much _ bigger, its head practically the size of Tucker’s body. 

“Holy shit,” Tucker whispered. 

“Dad’s awake!” the little dragon squeaked. 

Oh, right. 

His son had been turned into a goddamn dragon. 

Fuck. 

“Hey, kid.” Tucker started to sit up, only to yelp and collapse back to the ground when his stomach screamed at him for moving. “Ow, shit, what the  _ fuck?” _

“I did my best, but my magic is...limited.” The big dragon was talking now, holy shit, Tucker was sure he was gonna die because he  _ remembered  _ that dragon, it - she? - had been helping the Dragoons when…

When he got stabbed. 

Tucker’s hand flew to his stomach, where his clothes were damp and sticky with drying blood, but as long as he didn’t move, he wasn’t in pain. He wasn’t bleeding. 

“Why…”

“My Dragoon asked me to heal you. I think he regretted stabbing you once he realized who you were,” the dragon explained. 

“Should’ve thought of that before he fucking stabbed me,” Tucker complained, groaning because talking hurt too. Not as much as sitting up, but still. 

“I hear whining. Tucker must be awake.” Church leaned over him. “Hey, asshole, remember those Dragoons we met in the hills?”

“Yeah? So?” Tucker tried not to wince and failed. 

“One of them is going to pick you up and put you on a dragon. Try not to shock him, okay?” 

“What? Wait, shit, don’t-“ Tucker bit back a screech as he was lifted into the arms of the tall blonde Dragoon. He had the nice purple dragon that almost tackled Church. 

“I’m North. My dragon’s name is Theta. You and your kid are going to fly with us.” It took a second for Tucker to register exactly what he was saying. 

“Wait, no-” North didn’t wait to hear Tucker’s protest, just carried him to Theta’s side and hoisted him onto the dragon’s back. Tucker  _ screamed _ through his teeth as he automatically tried to balance, his abdominal muscles protesting and downright refusing to work right. 

“I thought you healed him!” Someone was yelling at the blue dragon, but Tucker wasn’t sure who. Sounded familiar, and a little panicked. There was a scuffle, and then Junior’s scaly teal body was lifted onto his lap. “Dad! Dad, are you okay?” Tucker tried to figure out how to reassure the kid, but just managed a low groan as someone settled behind him, jostling him again. 

“Iota can only do so much, kiddo. She stopped the bleeding and sealed it up so he won’t die, but his body has to do some of the work, too.” That voice was way too close to his ear for comfort. Tucker looked over his shoulder on reflex, but that just made his minimally-healed stomach wound hurt more. 

“Fuck!” 

“Would you stop moving? You’re going to hurt yourself, and then Ze- uh, Junior will cry,” the person behind him chided. 

“North, can’t we do something?” That was the purple dragon, Tucker was pretty sure. He sounded like a kid, like he wasn’t much older than Junior. 

“Not until we get out of here, buddy. Tex can’t keep them distracted forever. We have to get them outside the Capital. Can you handle one more, Theta?”

With a sickening jolt that had nothing to do with his injury, Tucker realized how accurate that thought might be. 

“I think so. Maybe two if it’s someone small.”

“Okay. South, can you-”

“Got it.” Junior whimpered at the new voice, one Tucker didn’t know. “Hold still.” 

There was some more jostling, and this time, Tucker bit down on the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood to keep from making any noise. When he managed to lift his head and look around - without twisting his body  _ at all _ \- he realized that everyone else was on a dragon, too. There was one he didn’t recognize, a huge yellow one that carried all four of the Reds, with a spot in front of them where the dragon’s Dragoon partner was probably meant to go. Iota was carrying quite the load, too, with one of the Dragoons slumped unconsciously against Church’s back. Caboose was behind the Dragoon, then one of the kids who’d been kidnapped with Junior, then Kai. 

“Iota knows what she’s doing,” a female Dragoon Tucker didn’t recognize was saying, looking up at Church. “Just don’t fuck with her.” 

“I will not drop anyone,” Iota rumbled, twisting her neck to look at Church. “As long as you do not drop Washington, everyone will make it.” Washington. Wasn’t that the one who’d stabbed him? Tucker tasted blood again as he fought back the pain that shot through him when he tensed up at the realization. They were taking the Dragoon they’d just been fighting with them? 

“Okay. I tied the brats to you.” There was the voice, the one Junior didn’t like. Tucker watched as a female Dragoon he didn’t know entered his field of vision. 

“Thanks, South.”

“Better you than me,” she snorted before stalking over to the yellow dragon and pulling herself up in front of the Reds. 

“We just have to get far enough to hide before Tex loses the guards’ interest,” North reminded them. “She and York should catch up soon, and then we can redistribute the weight. Okay, Theta, up we go. Nice and slow, okay?” 

Tucker didn’t exactly have a frame of reference for what a  _ nice and slow _ launch was supposed to feel like, but in his opinion, the way the dragon under him surged  _ straight up _ was so not nice or slow. 

Tucker was kind of glad when he blacked out again. He just hoped Theta didn’t drop him or something. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> North's day gets worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some mentioned character death in this chapter. It's not shown explicitly, but it's there. I did add a character death tag, but yeah. Someone is dead. Heads up.

North was kind of glad when the lightning witch passed out at takeoff. It made the whole flight easier, even if the witches on Eta’s back were cheering at him for “killing” the lightning witch, while the ones on Iota’s back seemed concerned, even if only the really big one was saying anything about it. 

Not that North could actually tell what they were saying, because none of them knew how to pitch their voices to carry over the wind of three dragons’ wingbeats. He was kind of glad for it, actually. It let him focus more on the things that actually needed his attention. 

Like the unconscious witch and his now-dragon son, or the two still-human kids behind him, or Washington, unconscious on Iota’s back with a bunch of people who had  _ no clue _ how to ride a dragon. 

Well, technically Georgia knew what he was doing, but from what Theta said, it was Alpha who was in control of that body, and Alpha didn’t even seem to remember being a dragon, so there was no way he actually knew how to ride one properly. 

It was a relief when they landed, and North was able to get everyone off the backs of dragons who had never had to carry more than one or two people at a time before. 

“We should move farther from the Capital,” South complained the second her feet were on the ground, leaving the witches on Eta’s back to find their own way down. North was torn between sympathy and amusement as the heavyset one tried to get down and ended up knocking all of the others off, so they all four ended up in a rather dismayed pile. “North! Are you listening? We have to keep moving!” 

“Not yet.” North twisted to unfasten the ropes around his waist that kept the kids behind him from falling off and lowered the kids to the ground. 

“But-”

“We won’t get much farther than this with the dragons overloaded, South. We have to wait for York and Tex to catch up.” North ignored her reply, focusing on the lightning witch. He wasn’t sure if it would be better to get him off Theta’s back so he could be laid down, or if unloading him and then having to get him back on Theta would outweigh any good not being propped up might do him. 

“I can try to heal him a little more,” Iota volunteered, nosing at the limp witch. 

“I thought you’d want to wake Washington up if you had the energy,” North admitted. 

“Wash won’t be happy when he wakes up and realizes what happened,” Iota explained. She seemed to understand the look of confusion on North’s face - Wash had helped the witches, hadn’t he? North thought he’d figured it out and joined them because he agreed it was the right thing to do, so why would he be upset? - because she added, “Maine.” 

Ah.

Before North could ask for more details, the rhythmic thunder of wingbeats reached him, and he scanned the sky, wondering if the dragon he could hear was an ally or Dragoons loyal to the Wizard coming to take them all back. 

North’s shoulders slumped when Omega’s gray bulk dropped down at the edge of their group, Tex sliding from his back and walking over to him. Something in the way she moved was... _ wrong. _ Like she was being weighed down.    
“North. You’re gonna wanna be on the ground for this.” 

North knew that voice. 

That was the Bad News Voice. 

The one Tex had used when she told them Georgia and Alpha were gone.

“Hey! One of you want to come get your friend?” North called. The big one - Caboose - was there in an instant, making grabby hands until North carefully passed the unconscious lightning witch to him. Just for something to focus on besides Tex’s impending bad news, North finally thought back to try and remember the witch’s name. Tucker. The sparky one was Tucker, right?

“Church! Tucker is still sleeping! You should do the water thing and make him wake up!” 

North was almost tempted to just avoid whatever was making Tex act like they were all going to die in favor of watching whatever  _ water thing _ the witches were going to do to their poor, unconscious friend.

“Something bad happened, didn’t it?” Shit, North forgot Theta could read him, even if he probably hadn’t caught on from Tex’s voice and posture like North had. 

“Yeah, buddy. I think so,” North answered, trying to keep his voice calm as his dragon dropped his head, looking for comfort even before knowing what happened. North obliged, scratching at the underside of Theta’s jaw.

“I didn’t expect to see South and Washington with you,” Tex said. “There’s gotta be a story there.” 

“South lost. I kind of knocked her out and had a chat with Eta. When she woke up, she realized she was outnumbered. She and Eta decided to come with instead of waiting around to see what would happen to them since they couldn’t exactly stop Theta and I.” North glanced over at Washington, who had been tucked protectively under Iota’s wing. “As for Wash...The witches didn’t say much, but Maine and Sigma were out cold when we got there to help out. Wash, too. Iota was the one that said they were coming with.”

“So South is only here to save her own ass, and you have no idea if Washington actually wants to be here, or if his dragon is just trying to protect him.” Tex grimaced. “I can say for sure that Carolina and Wyoming won’t be on our side.” 

“What  _ is _ our side?” North asked. Anything to put off whatever Tex was trying not to tell him. “We got the kids out, the hatchery is totally destroyed, you ruined the Wizard’s day, so what now? We can’t really go back, but witches are still…” 

“Are they?” Tex sighed. “As far as I can tell, these witches were just fine, hiding out in a village that didn’t have a problem with them, until Carolina’s squad kidnapped some kids. They didn’t hurt anyone-”

“Debatable. Caboose definitely almost killed a couple of the others while they were starting on the hatchery,” North interrupted. “But I get your point. The Wizard told us he got intelligent, talking dragons through breeding and a little magic augmentation, and instead he’s just been merging humans and dragons or something.”   
“Soul transfer, actually. Based on what…” Tex hesitated, then forced herself to continue. North’s stomach dropped. “What CT said, he’s pulling the humans’ souls out and putting them in the dragons’ bodies. But yes, if the Wizard lied to us about the dragons, then how can we trust anything we’ve been told about witches?”

“It’s about CT, isn’t it?” North asked. Tex froze, obvious distress and denial flashing across her face. “Whatever’s got you upset enough that I can see it, whatever I’ve been trying not to ask about because I know it’s going to be bad, it’s...it’s CT.” 

For a second, everything stood still.

Tex stared at him like she wished he hadn’t said anything.

He stared back, wishing he hadn’t said anything. 

“She’s dead.” The words escaped Tex like she’d been fighting to hold them back since Omega landed. Tex seemed...not smaller, but not as outwardly tough, either for a split second before she forced herself back to her normal tone and posture. “Carolina and Wyoming must have been too much for them. CT and Xi are dead. And...” Here, Tex faltered. Theta let out a cry; he and Xi had always gotten along. Xi was the nurturing sort, always ready to comfort Theta if she was closer to him than North was. 

Now she was gone.

North felt sick. 

CT had been on the same squad as him since before they got their dragons. 

Before that, when they were all in training together.

Before Tex and Carolina were named captains.

Before their training class was split into two squads and suddenly competing for enhanced dragons. 

Losing Georgia had been bad enough; they had never known for sure whether he was dead or alive, and North had gotten used to that, enough that seeing Alpha in Georgia’s body was strange and kind of unpleasant, but not shocking. 

Knowing for sure that CT was dead, that part of their group was gone forever, that she’d died  _ fighting Carolina and Wyoming, _ who North had known for just as long…

North leaned back against Theta’s flank, his knees not quite up to the task of keeping him out of the dirt. 

Even when they had agreed to turn on the Wizard, North had known it was possible that they’d get hurt, even killed. 

It hadn’t prepared him to hear it, though. 

Their squad was down two people, now. It was just him and Tex and-

“York.” The name came out as a whisper. The last member of their squad, his best friend, the only one besides South who’d known him before training, before they all threw away their names and their pasts and became Dragoons. “York, is he…” 

“I don’t know.” 

And suddenly, not knowing was just as bad as the alternative. 

North hated the sick feeling of grief for CT, but he hated the yawning emptiness left in his chest from just  _ not knowing _ about York even more. 

He couldn’t think. 

Couldn’t feel anything but torn apart. 

North turned, found Theta just as distressed. The purple dragon pressed his head against North’s chest, searching for comfort North knew wouldn’t be enough even as he clung to the dragon’s neck. 

“North?” Theta’s wings curled forward, blocking out the world. “We...we’ll get them back, right? I wanna see Delta again.” 

“Of course, Theta. We’ll see them again,” North promised, even though he had no way of knowing that, no way of keeping that promise, and that knowledge just made the empty feeling spread. 

“Can we go now?” Theta asked, nudging at North’s shoulder as his wings shifted, half spreading them to either side like he was ready to take off. 

“Not right now.” It was Tex who spoke. “We need to get the witches somewhere safe, and put some distance between us and the Capital. They’ll find us eventually, and I’m not losing anyone else today.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, nice comments means a nice new chapter happens sooner!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wash wakes up and has a crisis

Wash woke up as he had many times before: sore, like every ounce of energy in his body had been yanked out, but not bothered by it because he was curled against a warm, scaly hide and covered by the leathery membrane of a light blue wing. 

Wash wasn’t sure why it felt like he was laying on the ground instead of in Iota’s nest in their quarters, but the situation was familiar enough for him not to be too worried. 

The ache in his bones was something that always happened when he let Iota pull from him to power her abilities. It happened when they pushed too far in training, or when someone got injured and Iota needed to heal more than usual, typically because one of their friends got hurt doing something stupid. 

One time, Wash had woken up like this after helping Iota heal York’s broken leg after the one-eyed idiot tried to see just how well he could handle jumping off Delta’s back just before the dragon landed. 

Another time, South and Eta had challenged Carolina and Epsilon to no holds barred sparring matches, and the result hadn’t been great. 

Then there were the occasional serious things, like when Maine had been injured, a stray crossbow bolt to the neck, and Wash and Iota had poured everything they had into saving him. 

Maine has always been quiet before, but after that injury, he and the rest of the squad had taken up sign language, because it hurt him to force even a whisper out. 

Wash shook the memory away. Maine didn’t like that Wash blamed himself for not being able to save his voice, and he always knew when Wash had been thinking about it. 

Wash sighed and tried to remember who had gotten hurt this time. It hadn’t been South, had it? Or maybe Wyoming had told one too many stupid jokes and Carolina had punched him like she always threatened?

Blue flashed across his memory, blue fabric stained dark with blood, a screeching hatchling on a wounded man’s chest. 

Right. 

The witch. 

Wash grimaced as it all came back. The mission, the kids, the witches,  _ the hatchery,  _ and then…

The hatchling. 

The one that talked with the same voice as one of the kids. The one that made everything make awful, painful sense. 

The witch was his father, so Wash and Iota had healed him as best they could. 

Maine hadn’t understood, and…

Maine. 

 

_ “Iota, can you swamp them?” Wash asked. _

 

_ “I’ll need your help.” _

 

_ “Don’t,” Maine added, his fingers forming the same sign again and again. “Don’t.” _

 

_ Maine sank to one knee, signing Wash’s name over and over again. _

 

Wash had done that. Had brought Maine to his knee, turned his back on his duty, on  _ Maine.  _ In that moment, he had chosen the witches - the hatchling, the children - over Maine. 

Chosen them over countless nights curled together between their dragons while on missions, over stolen moments between training sessions in the Capital, over his name signed over Maine’s heart. 

The twisting ache in his chest had nothing to do with Iota using his energy, and everything to do with the gnawing fear that he could never take that choice back. 

He didn’t even know where he was, Wash realized, or what had happened after Iota took his energy to swamp Maine and Sigma. 

“Stop that, Wash,” Iota’s familiar voice rumbled. Wash blinked up at the dragon, who lowered her head to nudge his shoulder, a wave of contentment sweeping through him, easing a little of his fear. 

“Stop what?” Wash replied, scratching under her chin as she uncurled from around him. 

“Worrying. What’s done is done.” That sent another spike of regret through him, which made Iota sigh at him. “For what it’s worth, I believe you made the right choice. I think North and Captain Texas agree.” 

North? Texas? 

Wash finally scanned his surroundings, recognizing them with a guilty twist of his stomach. That was the town he’d seen from above, the house and field that they’d flown over. This was where the witches were from, the place Wash’s squad had taken the kids from. As soon as he realized that, he was on his feet, just unsteady enough to worry Iota as the lingering ache in his bones made it hard to keep his feet under him.

“Iota. Why are we here?” Wash asked, keeping his voice low as he spotted the witches clustered near the house. The three kids weren’t with them, but the teal hatchling was perched on Caboose’s shoulder. 

“Because after you had me swamp Maine, the witches and the hatchling needed to escape. You helped them not get killed, so I helped them get away.” Iota was watching him, close enough to support him if he needed it, but not quite touching him. 

“Maine…”

“Is fine. He and Sigma were unconscious but alive when we left,” Iota assured him. 

“He asked me not to,” Wash whispered, the image of Maine falling to one knee burned into his brain. “He kept signing my name…” 

“You’re awake. Good. We need to talk.” Tex’s voice caught Wash off guard nearly as much as the fact that she was flanked by North and South when he turned to face her.    
“We do?” Wash leaned back against Iota, trying to look like he was being casual instead of like he was a little nervous around Texas, and also maybe wasn’t doing so well with keeping his legs under him. When had Tex and the others even gotten involved? Had South turned on the squad, like Wash had? 

“Yeah. We do. I know you didn’t exactly choose any of this, so we thought we’d let you know what we’re doing, so you have some options this time. None of us can stay here, because Carolina and the others will be coming soon, so you’ll have to decide quickly.” Tex glanced over at the witches, who Wash now noticed looked like they were preparing for a journey. 

Wash had only just woken up, wasn’t ready to process what had already happened, let alone decide what he wanted to do next, but he was also used to shoving uncertainty down and hoping it went away. 

He was a Dragoon. He could handle this. 

“Okay. Tell me what’s going on.” 

“First of all, my squad found out the truth about the dragons. The witches said that’s why you helped them; it was the same for us,” Tex explained. Wash shot a look at the hatchling and his father the lightning witch, nodding. 

“We couldn’t let that happen, so we decided to work with the witches long enough to make sure the Wizard can’t do this to anyone else,” North added. “We got them in, and while they took care of the hatchery, we kept everyone else distracted.” 

“Which is why we’re all wanted criminals now,” South grumbled. “North knocked me out and when I woke up he convinced me to help get the witches out. Texas took on Carolina and Wyoming, but-”

“Don’t overwhelm him, South,” North scolded. He and Texas shared a look that told Wash they were keeping something from him, and Wash was so not a fan of that, but he was also used to being kept in the dark. Carolina hadn’t even told him what their last mission was until they were circling this exact field. 

“The truth is best.” It was Iota who spoke, her tone unusually cool as she addressed the others. 

“But-”

“You can’t coddle everyone, North.” South’s words were sharp, her expression tight and angry. “And not talking about it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.” She turned her attention to Wash, then. “Carolina and Wyoming killed CT and Xi. No one knows what happened to York and Delta. None of us can go back to the Capital, not unless we want to find out exactly how unforgiving our Captain is.” 

Wash was glad he was already leaning back against Iota, because that was…

CT and Xi were gone? CT had been his best friend in training, before they were put in different squads, and they were still close. She’d been the one to encourage him to admit his feelings to Maine. Xi and Iota were close, too, the only female dragons in the group. 

“South!” North hissed. “You could at least be less cruel about it!” 

“You want to talk about cruelty, North? We can’t  _ go home. _ I didn’t  _ want  _ this, and I only agreed to get the witches out because you and your squad had already fucked everything up!” Every inch of her radiated fury and pain. Wash remembered that South had been close to CT, too. No wonder she was falling apart. When she glanced at Wash, though, there was a flicker of sympathy in her eyes. “I’m leaving. Eta and I are going off on our own. You and Iota are welcome if you want to come.” 

“I’ll think about it,” Wash answered faintly. South nodded sharply, then turned on her heel and stalked to the edge of the field, where Eta was lounging in the shade. 

“I’m going to follow her,” North said quietly. “Make sure she doesn’t get into more trouble than she can handle.” 

“Omega and I are going to cause some more trouble as far away from here as possible. He’s a little bit pissed at finding out the Wizard stole whatever life he had going on before this and stuck his soul in a dragon.” Tex’s tone left no doubt that she was both understating and fully supporting Omega’s rage. 

“So my choices are to go with the twins or you?” Wash asked, doing his best to keep the absolute hurricane of emotions buried far enough that they wouldn’t be able to tell just how upset he was. 

He had only wanted to help the child in a hatchling’s body. He’d gotten Iota to heal the kid’s father because he couldn’t stand the thought of the kid having to watch his dad die. 

He’d asked Iota to knock out Maine and Sigma so they wouldn’t kill the kid’s dad, either. 

He never wanted to leave the Capital. Never wanted to leave his squad, to leave Maine. 

He never wanted to be part of a conflict that ended up with his best friend dead and another of his friends captured or worse. 

He didn’t want to end up having to face Maine or the other members of their squad in battle, which would definitely happen if he went with Tex. 

He didn’t want to be caught between the twins when they inevitably ended up traveling together and bickering the whole time, either. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to go back, just turn himself in and face whatever the Wizard and his squad would do to him for helping the witches.

“You can come with us.” Wash’s head jerked in surprise. He hadn’t even noticed the witch approach, but there he was, the lightning witch Wash had stabbed and then convinced Iota to heal. 

“What?” Wash didn’t need to say anything else; he was pretty sure his incredulous look was enough to convey his message of  _ I literally stabbed you in the gut and would have let you bleed out if it wasn’t for the hatchling _ pretty well. 

“I don’t-” 

“It’s not that any of us trust him.” And there was the other one, the water witch who was also Alpha in Georgia’s body, and who apparently had absolutely no fear in him when it came to interrupting Texas, which was a big mistake in Wash’s opinion, because Texas was scary. “But his dragon is useful, and he did technically save Tucker’s life.” 

“Only because I nearly killed him,” Wash pointed out, because apparently his expression hadn’t gotten that across nearly well enough after all. “And...you’re all  _ witches. _ Just because I didn’t kill you before doesn’t mean-”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re dangerous, menaces to society and all that,” Tucker the lightning witch snorted. “Look, being afraid of us because we’re witches just ignores all of the perfectly good reasons several of us are probably going to destroy a lot of things.”

“You can’t be serious. We aren’t going to leave Wash alone with-”

“People he could probably kill in his sleep?” the Alpha-Georgia-witch scoffed. “Yeah, the Dragoon is definitely the one in danger here.” 

_ “Strangers,” _ North corrected. 

“Whatever.” Tucker was talking again. “Caboose likes Iota, and Junior kind of wants to keep her around in case…” Tucker trailed off, one hand hovering over his stomach for a second before he seemed to push an unpleasant thought away. “Anyway. The dragon is welcome to stick with us, and if that means putting up with the stabby Dragoon, then fine.” 

Wash wasn’t particularly thrilled by the idea of sticking with the witches, but he wasn’t exactly jumping to go with Texas or the twins, either. 

He could always go off on his own, but he had a feeling that being alone wouldn’t go well for him, and it wouldn’t make Iota happy at all. After everything, after finding out Iota had been human before he met her, he thought that at least one of them deserved to be happy. 

None of his choices were great. 

But then, the last choice he’d made had ended up with Maine going down, signing for him over and over and Wash couldn’t get that image out of his head. 

Maybe it would be best if he didn’t choose at all. 

“Iota.” Everyone went quiet when Wash spoke, watching him. His dragon nudged his shoulder with her snout, comforting, prompting him to continue. “You choose. You got us this far; I’ll go with whatever you want.” 

“Wash-”

“Your choice, Iota,” Wash insisted, giving the dragon’s forehead a scratch. “What would make you happy?” For a long moment, she watched him in silence, and Wash wondered if she was going to press him on his reasons in front of the others.

“I would like to go with the witches.” When Tex made a disbelieving sound, Iota added, “I would prefer to be able to monitor Tucker’s wound, and Junior will need a dragon to teach him to fly soon enough. Besides…” Iota rested her chin delicately on top of Wash’s head. “I believe getting to know them will be good for Wash.” 

“I really doubt that,” Wash muttered. When Tex looked at him like she expected him to contradict Iota’s choice, however, he shrugged and turned to the witches. “So, what’s the plan?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> York and Delta have The Worst Day.  
> Locus and Felix are having an okay day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, heads up, there's some asphyxiation torture in this chapter, so if that's not your thing, skip the second scene in this chapter.

Locus kept his hands behind his back as he waited in the center of the Council room for instructions. Beside him, Felix was playing with a knife, flipping it casually while he watched the Council members bicker. Locus had mostly tuned it out, but he did get something about the Wizard having provoked a couple covens of witches and losing control of his special Dragoon units. 

Politics. Locus would have shrugged, but he knew better than to move when he was in the presence of so many high-ranking people. The ache from the last time he’d done something he hadn’t specifically been told to do had long since faded, but he could still remember the cause with startling clarity. 

“Silence.” That voice brought Locus’ attention back to his surroundings. The Chairman of the Council was on his feet, staring down the Wizard. Locus flexed his fingers, shifted his weight to the balls of his feet without visibly moving, just in case. “The Council has made a decision.” The Chairman had made a decision, he meant. “You will remain Director of the Hatchery, and oversee the reconstruction, but you will no longer be the Wizard.” Locus knew each member of the Council was adept at wizardry, knew any of them could step in, become the new Wizard, and most people wouldn’t know the difference, just as surely as he knew that if Felix didn’t stop flipping that knife soon, he was going to get noticed. 

“I fail to see how one squad of unruly Dragoons is-”

“You lost half of the dragons you claimed would be such an asset to us today,” the Chairman reminded the whole room. “Half of your hand-picked soldiers and their mounts are dead or missing. The others were soundly defeated. The project that got you promoted to Wizard has failed,  _ Director.” _ The newly demoted Director scowled at the Chairman, who stood and turned to face his fellow Council members. “I have a plan of my own to use the Director’s failings for our benefit. My subordinates will take charge of finding the renegade Dragoons and their coven friends. Every effort will be made to recover the enhanced dragons alive, and the soldiers who lead them astray brought to justice.” 

Locus heard muttering from the Council and scanned the room, but they seemed approving rather than threatening, so he settled his weight back onto his heels, hoping the meeting would be over soon. 

He had more productive things to do than sit in on this just because the Chairman wanted to remind the Council that  _ his _ pet soldiers hadn’t let witches into the Capital and destroyed the endeavors of their master. 

Still, the Chairman had told him to behave. 

So Locus waited, and Felix flipped his knife.

* * *

 

“That was  _ such _ a fucking waste of time!” Felix complained the second the Council members were out of earshot. “Why the hell did Hargrove even want us there?” Locus stayed silent, keeping his own discontent to himself. They had a job to do, and it wasn’t complaining. “I mean, come  _ on! _ What’s the point of just parading us around like prize animals if he’s not even going to let us  _ do _ anything?”

“Do you ever stop whining?” Locus sighed, nodding to the guards as he led the way into the cave system to the north of the Capital that the Chairman had converted for his and Felix’s use. They had quarters in the Capital, but the caves offered more privacy than anything within the city, where Dragoons were around seemingly every corner. 

“I’m not whining; I’m making conversation,” Felix corrected. Locus continued down into one of the lower parts of the cave, where their current mission waited for them. 

The rattle of chains was accompanied by a low snarl as they entered the lowest part of the cave, the dragon chained to the left hand wall eyeing them warily.

“Oh, relax, you big lizard,” Felix scoffed. “Unless you want me to collect a few more scales.” He pulled out one of his knives, doing that stupid flipping trick again. 

“Leave him alone.” 

“Aw, the hero speaks!” Felix cooed, turning his attention to the cave’s other occupant. Locus gave the dragon a flat look, evaluating the chains that held the creature’s wings and claws in check as well as the enchanted muzzle that held the massive green jaws shut. Everything looked like it was still holding strong, despite the thrashing the dragon had done when Felix had pried a patch of scales off of its shoulder as souvenirs when their prisoners were delivered to them before they had to attend the Council’s meeting.

“Go fuck yourself,” the human sneered from where he was hanging by his wrists from a chain bolted into the solid rock above his head. 

“Oh, no, Locus, I think he’s mad at us,” Felix laughed, flipping his knife one more time before hurling it across the cave. Their human prisoner hissed as the blade lodged in his shoulder, blood soaking into his Dragoon uniform. His reaction was exactly what Locus would expect from someone who had already lost an eye in battle, but the dragon’s reaction was well beyond his expectations. 

The creature  _ roared,  _ thrashing against its chains, snapping its jaws as best it could behind the muzzle. 

“Make that thing shut up,” Felix snapped, pulling out a new blade and using it to point at the dragon. 

“What, are you scared of the big lizard?” their captive taunted. The dragon continued to snarl, scraping its talons against the rock beneath it in a grating sound that was beginning to test Locus’ patience. 

“Leave the creature to me,” Locus growled, stalking over to the dragon. It hissed at his approach, let out another roar as he reached it. Unfazed, Locus held his hand up toward the creature’s mouth, and with a tugging motion, pulled the air from its lungs mid-roar, cutting off the sound along with the dragon’s breath. The animal went limp, its jaws opening and closing as much as they could inside the muzzle as it struggled to inhale, collapsing and twitching feebly as it was unable to do so.

_ “Delta!” _ the Dragoon shouted, yanking on his own chains. The knife in his shoulder clattered to the cave floor as he twisted and strained against the unforgiving metal. “What did you  _ do _ to him, you monster?” 

“I silenced it,” Locus answered. “Should you annoy me, I will do the same to you.” A flick of his wrist sent air rushing back into the dragon’s lungs, letting the creature gasp and wheeze as it lay there, eyes wide as it watched Locus with more intensity and fear than it did Felix’s knife. 

“You can’t silence the soldier, Locus. We need him to be able to talk if we’re going to get any information out of him, remember?” Felix tutted, pressing the tip of his knife against the man’s chin. 

“You won’t get shit out of me,” the man told them. “Even if I knew anything you two creeps would care about, I wouldn’t tell you.” 

“I beg to differ,” Felix sneered, flicking his knife down to open a cut across the man’s collarbone. He winced, but it didn’t stop him from an irreverent reply.

“Oh, do you? Beg, I mean. Because that would be-”

“Locus. The dragon.” Apparently annoyed by the lack of reaction to his blades, Felix fell back on his second favorite weapon: Locus. 

Locus sighed and reached for the dragon again, pulling the air from its lungs once more with a twitch of his fingers. The creature spasmed, silently screaming for air as Locus held its breath hostage. 

“Fuck! Stop!” The Dragoon pushed mindlessly forward, not caring about how the manacles on his wrists cut into his skin, or how Felix’s knife was digging into his throat hard enough to draw a pinprick of blood. “Leave Delta alone! Do whatever you want to me, but just...don’t hurt him.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Felix was fucking  _ pouting, _ Locus could tell without taking his eyes off the weakening gasps of the green dragon. “Unless you’re going to start screaming and spilling your secrets, there’s no reason to keep this dragon alive.” 

“Fine! Just- just  _ stop hurting him.”  _ Locus glanced at Felix, who nodded shortly. Locus shrugged and gave the dragon its breath back. The creature let out a low whine this time, its flanks heaving as it gulped air. 

“Let’s start with your name,” Felix purred, pacing in front of the prisoner. 

“Seriously? Don’t you-”

“Locus?”

“No, wait!” The man was going to dislocate his shoulders with the way he kept yanking on those chains. Locus paused, waiting, as the dragon whimpered and the human fell back against the cave wall, his one eye wide with fear. “It’s York, okay? I don’t know why you need me to tell you that, but-”

“It’s always good to start with something easy,” Felix explained, trailing the edge of his blade up York’s neck to trace the scar that marred half of his face. “Let’s give you a harder question, now. Whose idea was it to let the witches into the Capital?” 

York’s jaw twitched, but he didn’t flinch as Felix’s knife crept closer to his bad eye. 

“Why does that matter?” 

“You know, for someone who seems to care so much about Locus over there not suffocating your dragon, you sure don’t think much about what the shit you say will make Locus do,” Felix sighed. “Locus…” The dragon was in bad shape, still twitching on the ground, its breath irregular and labored. 

“I don’t know how many more times I can do this without killing it,” Locus warned. “And if it dies, we lose all our leverage.” 

“Then Yorkie here better answer the question, or he’ll lose his precious dragon,” Felix sneered. When Locus hesitated, Felix whirled and scowled at him. “Do it, Locus! Our orders are to get as much information out of him as possible,  _ remember?” _

“And we cannot do that if the one thing that has gotten him to talk is dead,” Locus pointed out even as he reached toward the dragon again. It wasn’t his place to disagree. He was just the weapon, and when he didn’t have specific orders from the Chairman, Felix was the one who called the shots. 

“I’m sure we can find something else Cyclops over here loves,” Felix replied. “And if not, we can always see if your little trick makes him more cooperative.” 

“Captain Texas proposed the plan.” Locus blinked. Felix whirled to stare. York swore under his breath. 

“Did the lizard just fucking talk?” Felix hissed. 

“Delta!” York snapped. “I  _ told  _ you-”

“Captain Texas and the others are more than capable of protecting themselves,” the dragon replied. Its words were muffled by the muzzle and faint from having its breath whisked away, but it was still  _ speaking words. _ Which dragons were  _ not _ supposed to do. “Withholding the information we know until I am dead and they focus on hurting you or someone else you care about is only causing you more suffering. I cannot allow it to continue.” 

“The lizard fucking talks,” Felix repeated, incredulity bleeding into amazement in his tone. “What the  _ fuck _ was that Director asshole  _ doing?” _

“Irrelevant.” Locus didn’t want to think about it, didn’t need to think about it to do his job. So he didn’t. “I will handle this, Felix. Dragon-”

“Delta.”  The creature shrank as far back against the wall as it could when Locus lifted his hand again.

“Delta, then.” Locus turned slightly, holding his hand out toward York. “Where would Captain Texas go? You must have had a rendezvous point.” 

“They will not still be there,” Delta pointed out. Locus twitched his fingers, and York’s breath stuttered. It was the timing and strategy Felix would use, Locus was fairly sure. From the conflicted smug-yet-indignant look on Felix’s face, he was right. “I do not know where they would go from the rally point. However, if you are looking for the witches, I know who you should ask about their destination.” 

“I guess the witches might be a good place to start,” Felix mused, advancing on the dragon and smoothly regaining control over the situation. He never could sit back and observe for long. “Tell us what you know about them.” 

“They came from the same village Captain Carolina’s squad took four children from,” the dragon answered. 

“If they think they got away with it, they’ll probably head back there,” Felix concluded. “Maybe even keep some of those rogue Dragoons with them. Hey, Locus, how many witches and Dragoons do you think we could take on alone?” 

“As many as we need to,” Locus answered steadily. Felix rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, big bad soldier can do whatever it takes to follow orders. Should’ve seen that coming.” Felix’s eyes lit up, then. “But I bet our dear Chairman would give us an escort when we go investigate. We should take Yorkie and Delta here with us! It’ll be so much faster that way!” 

“Felix! Locus!” Felix whirled and threw a knife at the person who’d interrupted them, the blade flying so close to the guard’s head that it nicked his ear. He screamed and ducked, clutching his stinging and bleeding ear. 

“What do you want?” Felix hissed, stalking past the terrified guard and reclaiming his knife. “And if it’s not something  _ really good, _ I’m going to throw this knife again, and this time I’ll take your eye.” 

“The Chairman sent me! The Wi-uh, the Director sent out his last three Dragoons to hunt down the witches! The Chairman wants you to go after them!”

For a second, Locus and Felix were silent as they processed this. Then Felix turned to their prisoners and smirked. 

“Better get your breath back and keep that nice cooperative mood, Delta. We’re taking you and Yorkie on a field trip.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that comments and kudos are my fuel for new chapters, so if you want more, remember to leave me something! Even just some emojis or something is nice.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tucker learns how to use his sword and Locus' day goes downhill.

Tucker wasn’t sure what to think about the Dragoon accompanying them. Everything he had said when he and Church offered to let him and his dragon stay was true. Caboose was absolutely thrilled to have something blue larger than himself around, and was determined to make friends with the dragon. Junior did want to keep Iota around, too, not just because he was more nervous about being a fucking dragon hatchling now than he wanted to let on, but because Iota’s healing ability had saved Tucker’s life once already, and Junior was smart enough to know that her staying with them meant it might save his life again. It was even true that everyone had agreed that letting Washington the stab-happy Dragoon join their group was a price they were willing to pay for Iota’s company.

Tucker just didn’t trust the person who’d stabbed him in the stomach and was probably perfectly willing to kill Tucker and any other witch he could find. After all, it was Washington’s old friends who would probably be coming after them, which was the whole reason both Blood Gulch covens were moving.

At least three active Dragoons knew where Blood Gulch was, and them making the connection between kidnapping Junior and the others and then witches showing up to destroy their hatchery was too big of a risk to take.

They might be a ragtag collection of selfish idiots, but they couldn’t put themselves or the other residents of Blood Gulch in danger like that.

Even if the others had wanted to stay, Tucker knew he would have left. As much as he’d wanted - _needed_ \- a coven since discovering his magic, he would have sacrificed it easily for Junior’s sake. And _someone_ was definitely going to come looking for his son eventually.

So traveling with Iota and her stabby human companion was something Tucker had accepted. He was even grateful for it, because Caboose was often distracted by Iota, trying to wrestle her tail or climb on her back as they traveled, on foot since Iota couldn’t fly all of them, and it would be pretty hard on her to fly them group by group a little farther from Blood Gulch each day.

Of course, it seemed like walking all day wasn’t enough to faze the witch-hunting soldier, because every time their group settled into a campsite for the night - even when they did stop close enough to villages to use an inn, it was too risky - Washington started running through his fancy knife moves.

“Does he _have_ to do that all the time?” Tucker complained, glaring at Washington, who was starting his evening workout while Iota curled up with Caboose and Junior under her wing to watch.

“Dude, he’s probably been training since he was Junior’s age,” Church replied. “I bet he doesn’t know how to go to sleep without doing his sword routine first.” Tucker was about to make a very witty and entertaining comment about who _else_ couldn’t sleep without doing a ‘sword routine’ first, despite the fact that the Dragoon was clearly using knives, but Washington cut him off before he could.

“You know, the lightning witch is welcome to join, if he wants to learn how to use that sword,” Washington informed them as he worked his way through some really deadly-looking moves without pausing. Tucker felt a little queasy when he was pretty sure he recognized one of them as the one that had ended up with a knife hilt-deep in his gut. The pain from his wound might have finally faded, but his memory of the incident hadn’t.

“The lightning witch has a goddamn name,” Tucker snapped.

“And an aversion to doing anything with swords besides cracking sex jokes,” Church added. Tucker shot him a glare - how _dare_ he side with the Dragoon - but Church just ignored him.

“The offer stands, Tucker.” At least the Dragoon was using his name now. Actually, wait, that might be worse.

“What offer? You gonna try to stab me again?” Tucker snapped. Washington shifted away from the practiced motions he was going through and turned, whipping a knife from each hand into the air. One landed exactly in the middle of the ground between Tucker’s feet, the other between Church’s. “What the _fuck?!”_ Tucker scrambled backwards with a yelp, electricity crackling over his skin as he gaped at the Dragoon.

“If I wanted to stab you, I would have,” Washington informed him calmly, twirling a new blade in one hand as he watched the witches’ reactions. “But since Iota likes you all, I would prefer you stay alive. And if you keep charging people with more training than you swinging that sword of yours around like a moron, you’re going to end up flat on your back and bleeding out again, no matter how much lightning you’ve got.”

The phantom sensation of a blade sliding into his skin kept him from making the comment he wanted to about being on his back, but it wasn’t enough to make him give in.

“I don’t trust you.”

“You don’t have to,” Washington replied. “I don’t trust you, either. But I think having to spend a little time together so you don’t get yourself killed is worth Junior not having to lose his father, don’t you?”

That was a low fucking blow, and Washington had to know that. But when Tucker met that serious stare with a furious, lightning-emphasized one of his own, Washington didn’t look the least bit apologetic.

The worst part was, the bastard was _right._

“Do you even know how to use a sword?” Tucker asked instead of outright giving in.

“Of course. It’s just not my preferred weapon,” Washington explained. Raising his voice, he added, “Iota, could you give me a sword?”

Honestly, with all the bullshit Tucker had been through and seen in the last few days - starting with having his son kidnapped and turned into a fucking dragon, proceeding down the line to being stabbed, and ending with sort of agreeing to take sword lessons from the person who was undeniably involved in the first two things - he was kind of expecting Iota to, like, puke up a sword or something. Instead, as Washington retrieved his knives and tucked them away, something shimmered in the air beside him. Washington reached out, curled his hand around the shimmer, and then he was holding a blade made out of water. A sheen of ice appeared around it, hardening it into a suitable demonstration weapon, and Tucker’s jaw dropped.

That was water magic.

Not like Iota’s ability to make everyone around her a little happier with her crazy dragon mind powers, which she had used a few times on their trip, which was nice because it reduced the number of times Sarge took air magic pot shots at Grif because he was irritated and tired. Even dragons that hadn’t been human in the past often had magical abilities, from fire breathing to spitting ice shards, and the happiness thing fit with that. Even the healing could fit. But those were supposed to be static abilities, and this was...this was witch magic, flexible and natural and completely unexpected.

Suddenly, the dual abilities to soothe emotional and physical wounds made more sense.

It was like...like the emotional ability was from the dragon body, and the healing and manipulation - both forms of magic common in water witches like Church or Simmons - were from something else. Like the human soul that had been put inside the dragon body.

“Holy shit.” Tucker couldn’t think of anything else to say to the realization that it could very well have been a water witch who had been turned into a dragon to create Iota, but she seemed to understand, because the dragon gave him a look that was way too knowing for her not to be perfectly aware of what he was thinking.

“Okay. Let’s begin with how to properly hold your weapon,” Washington decided, either not noticing or not caring about Tucker’s shock and what might have caused it. And that’s when Tucker realized he had made a mistake.

Because Washington was _serious_ about this, for whatever reason, and that meant he was probably going to try to make Tucker practice at least as much as Washington himself did.

God damn it.

* * *

 

“Hey, Locus. Does that little speck up there look like a dragon to you?” Locus didn’t know why Felix was bothering to ask. It was clearly a dragon. Or, rather, two dragons who were awfully close together as they dove straight at the camp Felix and Locus were in the middle of setting to.

“Do you want me to bring them down?” Locus sighed.

“Nah, I think they’re coming down pretty fast on their own. I just wanted to check, since Delta over there was _just_ promising us there weren’t any other dragons in the area,” Felix replied lightly.

“I was unaware of their presence,” Delta insisted. The dragons were getting closer.

“Identify them,” Locus ordered as the dragons pulled up at the last second and landed at the edge of their camp. When Delta didn’t answer right away, Locus reached over and held his hand in front of York’s face, silent threat painfully clear.

“The yellow dragon is Eta. The purple is Theta. Their Dragoons are South and North, respectively,” Delta answered as the Dragoons dismounted. The one from the purple dragon - North - strode across the distance between them.

“York! Delta! You’re alive!” He sounded relieved.

“That is far enough,” Locus warned, keeping his hand close to York’s face as he lifted and aimed his crossbow with the other.

“Whoa, easy!” North held up his own hands, palms out to show he was unarmed. “York is a friend; I’m not gonna do anything.”

“Damn right you’re not.” Felix stalked over to stand next to Locus. “If you come any closer, Locus here is going to shoot you.”

“Didn’t you hear him? We’re _friendly,_ you dick!” South snapped in a very unfriendly tone.

“What’s going on?” North had realized something was wrong. “York, who are-“

“Yorkie can’t answer right now,” Felix interrupted. “He’s not supposed to talk unless he wants to lose his tongue.” South had her sword out, and North had a crossbow of his own leveled at them in an instant.

“I would not advise-“

 _“Run!”_ York interrupted Delta, throwing his weight against Locus, clearly hoping to throw him off balance. “Get out of here, or-!” York’s voice disappeared along with his breath. Locus shook his head, not thrown off in the least by York’s attempt to help his friends.

“Remind me to cut out his tongue later,” Felix grumbled, unsheathing his knives as North fired his crossbow. Felix leapt _toward_ the bolt, twisting to the side at the last second, knives flashing as he cut it in half. “That was rude, North. We’ll have to work on your manners.”

“Like fuck you will. Eta!” South cried, bringing her sword up. Felix hadn’t stopped moving, was closing in on the Dragoons, when the yellow dragon shifted, letting out a hiss.

Suddenly, Locus felt cold. Shaky. Swamped with unnatural fear that definitely wasn’t his.

He clenched his jaw and held steady, firing his crossbow twice; once at each of the Dragoons. North’s dragon, Theta, curled its tail around the two of them, the bolts glancing harmlessly off purple scales.

“We need them alive!” Locus reminded Felix.

“I _know,_ you dick. Oh, and I changed my mind. Take the fucking dragons down!” Felix snarled as he closed in on North, ducking under Theta’s tail and flinging one of his knives in South’s direction, which she managed to avoid taking in the stomach, like Felix intended. The fear surged, making it harder to focus, but Locus had felt worse and won despite it in the past.

“From this range, I would have to reveal-“

“Shut up and fucking _do it!”_ Felix ordered as he knocked North’s crossbow aside and took a knee to his side because he was trying to put his knives somewhere nonlethal. “Fuck! Just pull, Locus!” Theta’s tail blocked his view of what happened next, but Felix had made his choice.

Locus heaved a sigh and reached for the dragons. It took more effort to pull the breath from both of them at once with the dragon-induced fear heavy in his gut, but it was manageable. The dragons seized, the fear surging again as the yellow dragon seemed to be broadcasting its own terror at suddenly not being able to breathe, rather than just trying to induce fear in others.

Delta thrashed, possibly an involuntary reaction from the yellow dragon’s ability, but the way its tail hit the back of Locus’ knees was too perfect to be a complete coincidence.

Locus swore as he stumbled, his concentration faltering. The dragons gasped for breath, the purple one cringing and whining while the yellow one lunged for him. They couldn’t get a good breath, his hold on their air still there, but it was weakened, apparently enough for them to participate in the fight.

The prisoners made their move. York grabbed for his crossbow as Delta’s tail came around again, this time clearly meant to slam into Locus’ face.

Between the distraction of the yellow dragon’s fear, trying to pull both dragons’ breath away again, wrestling his crossbow out of York’s reach, and dodging Delta’s tail, it was too much.

Locus took the tail on his shoulder, a heavy enough blow to knock him back, stumbling, and York’s foot was there, tangling with his ankles.

He went down, catching a glimpse of North holding his own against Felix’s knives while South closed in at his back.

This was what they got for trying to hold back and capture their opponents instead of killing them.

“Are you fucking _kidding me?”_ Felix sounded pissed. That wasn’t good. If Felix wasn’t enjoying the fight anymore, he was going to do something reckless. “Fuck this!”

The air crackled, and Locus stayed down. He was _not_ about to fight his way to his feet and get hit by Felix. He would never live that down, and it would hurt like a bitch.

So, in Felix’s words, _fuck that._

Locus was staying right where he was.

The sky was tinged an unnatural shade as red-orange lightning formed a ball around Felix, expanding to hit the Dragoons first, dropping them to the ground with screams that would put a banshee to shame. Then the ball became a wave, shooting out in all directions at waist height.

Theta and Eta were next to be hit, then York and finally Delta.

Their screams joined North’s and South’s. The wave faded, but a red-orange tendril of electricity connected each of them to Felix. The sound of agony mingled with the crackle of energy dancing in the air grated at Locus’ ears, and with the power contained to specific bolts coursing through each of their enemies, he deemed it safe enough to return to his feet.

Felix was in the center of it all, head thrown back and arms outstretched, reveling in the cacophony of pain he was causing.

“That’s enough.” Felix didn’t respond, so Locus repeated himself. “Enough, Felix. We need them alive.” That was the whole reason Locus had been holding back. Sure, he’d ended up going down, but he would have been on his feet again in less than a second if Felix hadn’t let loose.

Felix’s arms dropped, and the unnatural lightning faded as he turned to whine at Locus, ignoring their opponents, who were all limp on the ground, probably unconscious. Locus hoped at least one dragon and rider pair was alive. They still needed to find the witches, after all, and they were _supposed_ to be bringing the dragons back alive.

“You always ruin my fun.”

“You’re not supposed to use that,” Locus reminded him.

“It’s my magic; I’ll use it whenever I fucking want,” Felix retorted. “Who’s gonna tell on me? _You?”_

“Felix.” Locus wasn’t about to back down on this.

“Fine. You’re such a killjoy,” Felix complained. “Come on, let’s get these morons under control.” Locus nodded and heaved York onto his shoulder, wondering if maybe the new prisoners had some rope with them he could use.

“We could have handled it without revealing our abilities if you weren’t so impulsive,” Locus grumbled.

“Maybe, but this was more fun. Oh, and Locus? Don’t think I didn’t see you go down.” Locus grimaced; it seemed that even without getting hit by Felix’s lightning, he wouldn’t be living this fight down any time soon.

“Quit talking and make yourself useful.” Locus was _not_ in the mood for Felix being a little shit, especially because he could still see sparks floating around Felix’s body, which meant he could still use his lightning at any point.

Locus sighed and focused on the task at hand, tuning out any reply Felix made.

They had work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, comments make updates!! Talk to me about stuff!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Tucker gets a break

“Hey, Washington? Next time just stab me. It’ll hurt less.” Tucker groaned, refusing to move from where he’d flopped to the ground at the end of their most recent training session. Grif and the Reds were in charge of their meal for the evening, and Tucker was hoping he’d be able to move again soon enough to eat before Grif made it all disappear. From the way his muscles were yelling at him, though, that didn’t have much of a chance of happening. 

It was a real shame; Tucker actually kind of enjoyed Grif’s cooking. 

Realizing he hadn’t gotten a reply to his complaint, Tucker forced his head up just enough to look around. Washington apparently hadn’t stuck around to hear him, since he was over by the campfire instead, which luckily seemed to be Kai’s responsibility instead of Donut’s. Tucker let his head fall back to the ground and wondered why the hell he’d agreed to let Washington train him. 

“If you can manage to sit up, I think some food would help you feel better.” Tucker squinted up at the darkening sky. That sounded like Washington. Which was weird, because Tucker had been positive the Dragoon was over at the campfire, getting food. Yet there he was, standing next to Tucker, with two helpings of food. Maybe he was planning to be a Grif-style asshole and eat both in front of him. Tucker wouldn’t put it past him, considering the whole witch hunter thing. “Iota, could you-” 

Something damp and cold wrapped around Tucker’s torso, hauling him up into a sitting position despite his surprised screech and slight flailing. Something warm and solid settled behind him, and when he turned to see what it was, Iota gave him a toothy grin and released the tendril of suspiciously witchy water magic around him, letting him fall back against her side. A plate was set on his lap, and a moment later, Washington was sitting beside him with his own food in hand. 

“You know, your plan to kill me by training me to death won’t go as well if you feed me,” Tucker informed him as he ate, watching Washington out of the corner of his eye. 

“If I wanted you dead-”

“Yeah, yeah, we’d all be dead already.” Tucker shook his head. “What’s with your hate boner for witches, anyway?” 

“Witch magic is unpredictable and dangerous,” Washington answered. A series of screams from the direction of the campfire seemed to make his point for him. 

“Tucker did it!” Caboose insisted, shying away from the roaring inferno that had become of the campfire. Tucker found himself suddenly incredibly grateful that Washington had already brought him dinner, because there was no way in hell anything had survived that. 

“I have lightning magic, you idiot! You can’t blame me for fire shit!” Tucker shouted. The chaos continued, but it didn’t seem to be spreading, so he glanced at Washington and added, “Look, it’s hard to control our magic. Some of us are terrible at it.” When Washington gave him an incredulous look, Tucker added, “Hey, Church is an asshole, but at least when he causes stupid magic shit, he’s doing it on purpose.” 

“That’s hardly comforting,” Washington pointed out. 

“Yeah, well, we’d probably all have better control if you Dragoons hadn’t killed Flowers.” Tucker saw the confusion on Washington’s face and sighed. “Church stepped up when he died because he was the only one with any control. Flowers was the one who took us in, made us a coven, and was teaching us control. But he got caught by a Dragoon patrol and they killed him. The Reds are a little better, because Sarge sort of taught himself, and Grif and Kai had a mentor before they came to Blood Gulch, and Simmons is so self-conscious that it helps with the magic a little. But just look at Donut. He’s almost as bad as Caboose, because the Reds are shit at being mentors.” 

“I’m sure even your old leader lost control sometimes,” Washington said quietly. “And when that happens, people die.” Tucker shrugged, staring down at his food. 

“Sure. But people can die if you don’t keep a good enough hold on your knives, too. We’re just people, man. Stupid, helpless people who can’t even cook food without Donut and Caboose burning it or Grif stealing it all.” Tucker leaned his head back against Iota’s flank, watching Washington from the corner of his eye as he added, “Besides. We witches aren’t the ones who kidnapped a bunch of kids to use them for magic experiments.” His gaze landed on Junior, who was trying to wrestle with Iota’s tail while the larger dragon gave him quiet encouragement and prodded him to change his tactics occasionally. 

“You have a point,” Washington admitted. “The Wizard...what he did was wrong. There’s no excuse for it.”

“But?”

“No buts. I understand why Captain Texas and her squad helped you. I knew what we were doing was wrong, but I let myself be convinced it was okay.” Washington set aside his plate, stared down at his palms. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.” 

“Why don’t you tell me what bullshit the Wizard tells you guys about witches and shit, and I’ll tell you if it’s right,” Tucker suggested. “It’ll be fun. I’ll get to tear apart all your shit like you’ve been tearing me apart for so-called training.” Washington snorted, tilted his head back against Iota’s side. 

“Sure, why not?” For a second he was silent, gathering his thoughts. “Okay. Witches versus wizards. Wizards have controlled, structured magic because they use spells and stuff. Witches have wild magic.”

“Sort of?” Tucker’s nose scrunched as he thought about it. “Wizards don’t actually have their own magic. They have to use their spell shit to pull magic from the stuff around them. I don’t know exactly how it works, but people who have their own magic in them are witches.” 

“Wild magic,” Washington repeated. 

“Maybe? Like I said before, you have to control it, and that’s hard without someone to teach you how.” Tucker shrugged. “We get by, though. And honestly? A witch with no training can be dangerous, but we’re more likely to hurt ourselves than anyone else. Donut might be immune to his own fire while he’s controlling it, but once it lights something, it’s not completely his anymore. He got those scars because no one in their coven could put out the fire fast enough.” 

“At least each witch only has one kind of magic, right?” Washington tilted his head. “It sounds hard enough learning one type, let alone-”

“Dude, Caboose has  _ three,” _ Tucker snorted. 

“He  _ what?” _ Washington shot a wide-eyed glance at Caboose, who was following Church around and presumably talking his ear off about something stupid. 

“Yeah. Earth, water, fire. One time he set himself on fire, nearly drowned trying to put himself out, and then buried himself alive because he was trying to hide from Church yelling at him about it.” Tucker shook his head. 

“And you raised your son around him?” Washington seemed dubious about Tucker’s judgement. Which, considering he’d agreed to let a witch hunter train him to sword fight, Tucker couldn’t exactly argue with. 

“I want to say he only ever hurts himself, but…” Tucker watched as Church finally cornered Caboose, still lecturing him about not touching the campfire at full volume. “It’s complicated. You spar with your squad, right?”

“Of course.” 

“With sharp weapons?” Tucker pressed. Washington winced, either remembering something unpleasant or making the connection Tucker was going for. 

“Yes.” 

“It’s the same thing. We’re all in it together. Sure, we might accidentally hurt someone sometimes, but we’re trying. And we don’t really have anyone else.” Tucker felt the bitter twist to his mouth as he talked, but couldn’t stop it. “I lost so much. My parents, Junior’s mom, Flowers...I can’t lose anyone else. Not Junior, and not the stupid assholes in my coven. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe.” 

“I know you will.” Washington’s voice was low and serious, and something about the way he turned to study Tucker as he spoke made Tucker’s skin prickle. He couldn’t decide if the feeling was good or bad. “You agreed to let me beat you up twice a day, after all.” Washington gave him a half smile before looking away. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” 

“For kicking my ass? You should be,” Tucker informed him. 

“No. You’re getting better with that sword of yours, so I’m not sorry for all the training.” Washington hesitated. “I’m sorry for everything else. For Junior, for you losing your home, for not doing something about what I knew was wrong. For stabbing you.” A quick glance at his stomach showed Tucker enough of Washington’s expression to decide he wasn’t just saying that. 

“Hey, it’s all good,” Tucker said. “I mean, Blood Gulch fucking sucked, okay? No harm done there. And the rest of it…” Tucker wanted to say it was fine. That he was getting used to the idea that his kid was a goddamned dragon now, and hey, Iota had healed the stab wound, so that was okay too. 

But he knew it wasn’t. Not when he could still feel the blade going in, could still hear Junior’s cry when he went down, not when they were still being hunted. 

“I’m just trying to focus on what I can control,” was what he said. “And that might not be my magic, but-”

“It could be.” Washington wasn’t the one who said it. Tucker blinked, glanced around, found Iota and Junior watching him, Junior perched proudly on top of Iota’s head for some reason. 

“Huh?”

“You were just telling Wash that it’s hard to control magic without someone to teach you,” Iota reminded him.    
“I know. I was there. But Church is still an asshole and no one else is totally sure what they’re doing, so-”

“I am.” Iota’s lips curled in what would have been a smile on a human but just came across as a fierce look on a dragon. “I have noticed similarities between my magic and Church’s and Simmons’.” Tucker had noticed the same thing, but he hadn’t been about to say anything. Washington seemed to get the idea, though, and he didn’t seem upset like Tucker had expected. 

“Is it possible for dragons to have the same kind of magic as witches?”

“No.” Tucker shook his head. “Dragon abilities are innate, they’re like instinct. Not something conscious.” 

“My ability to affect emotions is like that, yes,” Iota confirmed. “But when I heal, or when I control water, it requires effort. Skill. As far as I can tell, it is very close to human magic.” 

“Maybe it is.” Washington grimaced. “I wouldn’t put it past the Wizard to have used witches in his experiments.” 

“What better way to kill more witches than to put a witch in a dragon and have them do your dirty work?” Tucker tried not to feel like throwing up the meal he’d just eaten. He focused on Washington and added, “You seem awfully calm about all of this.” 

“You just finished telling me that witch magic is only dangerous when someone is untrained or out of control. Iota is clearly better at controlling and using her powers than any of the Blood Gulch witches,” Washington replied. Tucker raised one eyebrow in what he hoped was an incredulous and prompting look. “Oh, shit up. Yeah, it’s complicated. But so is teaching a witch all the techniques I was taught to use to kill witches. So if Iota was a witch before she was a dragon, then fine. At this rate, it’s looking like the witches are the right side to be on.” 

“Damn right we are!” Tucker found himself relaxing a little. Washington wasn’t what he expected from a Dragoon. 

“So, Iota, you think you can help the witches with their magic?” Washington asked. Iota lowered her head until her chin rested on the ground in front of them, Junior still perched on top of her head. 

“Of course. If they can manage to actually listen to me,” Iota sighed. “At least the lessons I will be trying to teach can be done while we move.” Iota sounded smug, which Tucker was beginning to think was a trait she got from Washington. 

“At least Iota won’t smack me with an ice water sword when I mess up,” Tucker muttered. 

And then he realized that he had somehow just agreed to magic training on top of traveling and sword training. 

Shit. 

He was going to be constantly sore and tired  _ forever. _

Maybe Washington really was trying to kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave kudos and maybe a comment if you like this fic!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tucker's day gets better and Felix does everything he can to have a good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a couple days because Tucker is a little shit. But I'm back! Hopefully I'll be able to update like normal again.

“I wonder which one of them will break first,” Felix hummed, drawing the tip of his knife along South’s jaw. 

“Don’t you touch her!” North snarled, straining against his restraints. 

“Nevermind. This isn’t going to be as fun as I thought,” Felix sighed, grimacing as he straightened. “Locus, suffocate the woman and the purple dragon until he talks.” Locus held out his hand, but a shout made him pause. 

“We don’t know anything!” North was still trying to move, to put himself between the others and Locus. “We dropped the witches off; we don’t know where they went!” North was already desperate and determined to protect his companions. Locus doubted he was lying, especially because if the witches had any intelligence at all, they wouldn’t stay where the Dragoons left them. 

“Do it anyway, Locus,” Felix ordered. 

“No!” North surged against his restraints, thrashing like a trapped animal. Locus wasn’t sure that he  _ wasn’t, _ all things considered. 

“I don’t think-”

“Yeah, well, you’re not here to think, are you?” Felix was definitely in a bad mood. Locus wasn’t sure if it was because North gave in so easily, or if it was because now they’d have to keep track of three sets of prisoners. “Just do what you’re told. Her first.” Locus reached for the shifting in the air around them caused, found the current from South, and pulled. 

Her body seized, her lips gaping in a scream that could never be heard without breath in her lungs, only for North to give voice to her pain instead, a roar almost worthy of a dragon as he lunged for her. Eta’s reaction was only slightly less dramatic, while Theta whimpered and cringed. 

“Felix,” Locus growled. 

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Felix grumbled, grabbing North’s shoulder and shoving him back, sparks jumping between them that made North twist and fall with a different kind of cry. “What are you doing?” he added when Locus released South’s breath, let the air return. Her body went limp, her chest heaving as she gulped air. 

“Unless you want her dead, I-”

“We don’t need her  _ alive,” _ Felix reminded him. “We only need one pair functioning enough to fly us around. So don’t hold back.” 

“Wait!” South forced herself up on one elbow, wheezing. “I can help you.” 

“South…” North was glaring at her, but she ignored him. 

“If you only need one of us…” South paused to retch as she tried to lift herself farther, only for her body to refuse to cooperate. 

“Let me guess. You want your brother to live?” Felix scoffed. 

“No.” South’s voice rattled in her throat, her whole body was shaking, but she met Felix’s smirk with a fierce glare. “I’ll help you. Whatever it is you’re after, I’ll help. North will try to escape the second he thinks he can get me and Theta out. York will do the same with Delta.” Locus shot an unimpressed glance at the still unconscious York and Delta, then gave South the same flat look. 

“Yorkie and Delta did try to attack as soon as we were distracted,” Felix mused. 

“We can’t trust her,” Locus reminded him. “It’s better to keep the ones we know we can control.” 

“You won’t have to control me,” South insisted. “I didn’t want to leave the Capital, and I didn’t want to help the witches. North made me. If you let me live, Eta and I will prove it.” 

“South!” North didn’t seem to know what else to say, or maybe Felix zapped him again, Locus wasn’t sure, because his attention was fixed on South. 

“She was part of Carolina’s squad,” Felix hummed. “Maybe she should be the one we keep, after all.” 

“I’ll take you straight to the town we dropped the witches in,” South promised. “Someone there will know where they are.” 

“I know how hunting someone works,” Felix sneered. He moved away from North, closing in on South and flipping his knife as he spoke. “Locus, what do you think?”

“I thought I wasn’t here to think,” Locus retorted. Before Felix could reply, he continued. “We are  _ supposed _ to be returning the dragons alive.” 

“The dragons are the Wizard’s,” North piped up, his expression bordering on frantic. “They’re valuable.” 

“He’s right. The lizards are special. Well, we can always tell the Chairman that they killed themselves or something,” Felix mused. “Or that the ones he gave us escaped and we had to kill them to keep them from warning the witches. Keeping all of them would be such a pain. Even just the dragons. Besides, you know the Chairman only told us to keep the dragons alive to make the Council play nice. Once the Council sees what you and I can do, they won’t care about the old Wizard’s experiments anymore.” 

“It would be better for them to die than escape,” Locus agreed reluctantly. He didn’t like the way his partner was so determined to twist their mission to his liking, but Locus also knew that a concession now - especially when Felix was right; the Chairman might have said to bring the dragons back alive in front of the Council, but he had told them privately that the real goal of this mission was to show off their skills to the Council - would mean a more focused Felix for the rest of the mission. Felix shot him a triumphant grin, recognizing Locus’ surrender when he saw it. 

“That’s the spirit. Now, the order of killing them is  _ important. _ I think we should leave North here for last. I can’t wait to hear him wail when his lizard dies.” Felix flipped his knife one more time, then tapped South’s cheek with it. “Guess you get your wish. Locus, wake up Yorkie. Killing his pet won’t be any fun if he’s not awake to see it.”

* * *

 

Tucker knew he’d technically agreed to this, but he  _ so _ wasn’t in the mood. Not while he was sore from his morning training with Washington and grouchy from having to travel on foot for yet another day, especially when Grif was on the dragon’s back for some reason, dozing instead of walking like the rest of them. 

“Tucker, you are not focusing,” Iota scolded.

“Yeah, well, sometimes my magic just doesn’t cooperate. It’s kind of a pain in the ass, but I’ll take not showing up over accidentally shocking someone any day.” 

“What do you think about when you train with Wash?” Iota stretched her wing just enough to nudge his side, where his sword rested at his hip. 

“Mostly just how much I hate training,” Tucker answered, mostly honestly. He definitely hadn’t caught himself wondering what exactly was going on behind that serious expression Washington always wore. At least the vivid memories of being stabbed had stopped popping up while he trained. 

Iota was quiet for a moment, considering him with an expression he really didn’t like. 

“You are afraid of hurting people.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Tucker rolled his eyes. “I mean, I’ve spent the whole time since I got my powers trying to make sure I don’t turn out like the crazy monster the Capital says I am.” 

“Shoving your magic away is not controlling it,” Iota rumbled. “What does your magic feel like?” Iota watched him intently as he frowned first at the change of topic, then as he actually thought about it. How could he possibly describe the feeling of lightning under his skin, in his blood, dripping from his fingertips? How could anyone describe something like that, or the rush of energy that came with it, like he could run for hours or endure one of Washington’s training sessions without getting beaten to a pulp.

“Like...you know the way the air feels right before a really big storm? Or like that prickly feeling when everything is all dry in the winter and you just  _ know _ you’re about to get shocked from all the static?” Tucker grimaced, not sure that was the best way to explain it, but Iota nodded thoughtfully.

“Do you feel it now?”

“What? No. That’s the whole problem, remember?” Tucker snapped. He didn’t know how this was supposed to help him control his magic, which was the whole reason Iota had started this stupid conversation. 

“No, the problem is that no one has ever taught you proper control, and because of that, you’ve pushed your magic away without learning how to properly call it back.” Tucker froze in his tracks, staring at the dragon as she continued a few more paces before stopping. When she spoke again, though, it wasn’t Tucker she talked to. “Wash, we need to stop for a bit.” 

“Everything okay?” Washington had been walking with Caboose and Junior, but he trotted to Iota’s side easily enough. 

“I want you to put Tucker through his paces.” That so wasn’t an answer, and from Washington’s expression, he wasn’t terribly happy with it. 

“He’s already worn out from earlier.” Washington’s forehead had that crease in it Tucker kept noticing. He kind of wanted to poke it and tease Washington about wrinkles, but he also wanted to avoid irritating the stabby Dragoon just in case he decided to change his opinion on witches again. 

“Good. Wash?” Iota arched her neck, staring down at Washington, who still looked reluctant. “Trust me, I’ve been watching you train. He’s ready.” Washington sighed and held out his hand. The water-and-ice sword he used when they practiced appeared in it, and he gave it an experimental twirl. 

“Most ice than usual, Iota,” he commented. 

“Trust me,” the dragon repeated. “Tucker, you will want to draw your sword.” 

“Whoa, I didn’t agree to this!” Tucker protested. 

“Wash, could you-”

“I’m not attacking him,” Washington insisted. “This was your idea; you’re going to have to convince him.” 

“You are no help at all,” Iota informed him. Washington gave her a flat, unimpressed look, then spun the sword in his hand again. “Yes, fine, I take your point. Tucker, I promised I would help you control your magic. Would you please trust me and spar with Wash for a few minutes? Oh, and try not to let his sword touch you this time; there’s actually enough ice in it to cut, for once.” Washington’s practice sword wasn’t the only thing sharper than usual; Iota’s voice cut deep.

“Okay, now I  _ really _ don’t want to do this,” Tucker complained. “Come on, let’s just keep moving.” 

“Do you want to struggle between the need to protect people from others and the need to protect them from yourself forever?” Tucker’s whole body went so tense that he wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled a muscle. 

“I’m not-” 

“You are afraid of hurting people. You said it yourself. You clearly want to protect your coven and your son, or you wouldn’t have stormed the Capital and then allowed Wash to train you.” For a long moment, Tucker stayed still. Iota was right, though, so he drew his sword. 

“Fine. Come on, Washington, let’s give the crazy dragon lady a show.” He didn’t wait; letting Washington attack first was even worse than launching a blind attack of his own, if only because Washington always seemed to hesitate in the first moment when Tucker attacked, like Tucker wasn’t the only one who sometimes remembered the whole stabbing thing at inconvenient times. 

Their blades came together, the steel of Tucker’s sword not quite biting into Washington’s blade the way he was used to. Right, more ice, harder and sharper blade. Shit. Washington angled his blade, disengaging with a flourish before driving back in, sword sweeping around to Tucker’s side. He barely managed to block and counter, the movements familiar even as his muscles ached from another match so soon. 

They fell into a rhythm, blades coming together and flicking away, moving faster than normal. Usually, Washington kept the pace slow, correcting Tucker’s form or choice of counter move whenever he felt it was necessary, but this time, Washington just pressed any advantage Tucker let him have, backing Tucker down the road with each blow.

There wasn’t time to think, now. 

No time to worry about which block to use or what the whole point of this was or even how much his body ached. 

There was only the movement of the two blades, the shifting of his feet, and then, in the emptiness brought on by the flurry of motion and the complete inability to form a coherent thought, there was something else. 

Warmth tingled through his veins, new energy sparking under his skin, over his skin, along his sword. The sharp prickle across his skin made him hesitate, thought creeping in for a moment, and it started to fade, but then Washington was there, sword darting through the gap in his defenses, and Tucker knew that his own blade wouldn’t get there in time. 

He twisted away, trailing that sharp, warm energy in his wake, and Washington yelped, his sword disappearing as Tucker finished his turn and brought his blade up, leveling it at Washington’s chest. 

“There. That feeling, Tucker.” Iota’s words reached him as if from a long distance, but he wasn’t sure what she meant. “Right there. No fear, no hesitation, no anger. Just focus. Can you feel it?”

“Feel what?” Tucker’s confusion slipped across his mind, but the sparks in his blood kept it at bay. 

“Your magic. Look at your arm, Tucker.” He blinked, noticing for the first time the soft blue-white streaks of electricity tracing the veins in his arm, the crackle of energy across his skin and along his sword. 

“Holy shit.” The energy flickered, his shock driving away the sharp clarity of the sparring match. 

“Try to use it for something,” Iota urged. Tucker frowned, wondering what he was supposed to do, then realized he didn’t know how to really do anything with his magic. He glanced at Iota, frustration starting to replace lightning as the prickle he felt. 

“I don’t-” They had an audience. He didn’t notice until he looked at Iota, but they did. The Reds, his own coven, even Junior, they were all watching him. Tucker took a step back, his foot catching in a dip in the road, and he tumbled back, landing flat on his ass in front of everyone.

The lightning flared and then vanished, embarrassment and frustration warring inside him. 

“Well done, Tucker,” Iota praised, prodding his side with the tip of her tail. “That was very good. Now that you’ve successfully focused enough for your magic to come out without going wild, we can practice more as we move.” Tucker shot a glare at the dragon - she said they could practice while moving last time, and look where that got him; on his ass in the dirt - but couldn’t maintain the expression as Washington stepped into view, leaning over him. 

“Are you going to lecture me about being more careful with my feet?” Tucker griped.

“Not this time,” Washington replied, holding his hand out. Tucker stared at the hand like it might bite him, or maybe suddenly grow a knife and stab him, but his hesitation was replaced by shock as Washington added, “You’ve got the basics down now. We’ll keep sparring at full speed until we get somewhere safe. Then I’ll show you the advanced stuff.” 

Tucker started to reach out, stopped before their hands touched. 

He strained to remember that feeling, the sharp lack of thought filled with the crackling of lightning. 

Sparks danced between his fingertips, but Washington didn’t flinch. He kept his hand right where it was, offering to help Tucker up. He didn’t pull away when Tucker took his hand, didn’t show any sign of relief when Tucker let the calm and his magic fall away the second before he touched Washington’s skin. 

Washington pulled him to his feet easily, and Tucker remembered that on top of only using the basics with Tucker, and probably holding back on top of that, the sword wasn’t Washington’s preferred weapon.

They stood for a moment, face to face, and Tucker realized Washington’s eyes were a really nice, soft shade of blue-gray. Tucker opened his mouth to comment on it, but Washington was already stepping back.

“We should keep moving,” Washington said as he let go of Tucker’s hand and turned away. 

Washington could still kill him if he really wanted to, even if Tucker did manage perfect control over his powers. And as he watched Washington’s back retreating toward the others, Tucker realized that thought didn’t scare him the way it had just a few days before. 

The fact that Washington had held his hand out, even when Tucker deliberately sparked at him, and had turned his back without glancing over his shoulder to check for an attack, was definitely something new. Almost like Washington trusted him not to target him with his magic or his sword.

And that nice soft color of his eyes...Tucker wondered why he’d never noticed it before.

It almost made Tucker glad for all the training he’d agreed to, because that made for a great excuse to not think about any of that shit too much. 

Or at all. 

Yeah, not at all was definitely the way to go there. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, comments keep me going! So if you want to see more of this, you gotta leave me something nice!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sigma and only Sigma is having a great day.  
> Everyone else is absolutely miserable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay heads up there's some brief descriptions of a burned body so if that makes you queasy, be careful of everything in the chapter after Carolina says "not all of us"

“You know, I’m kind of impressed,” Epsilon mused as he flicked some of the burning rubble with his tail, sending it flying into the field. “I really expected witches stupid enough to get into the Capital to be stupid enough to just go home and stay home.” 

“They were smart enough to figure out how to turn York to-” Wyoming fell silent as Carolina shot him a glare that Epsilon kind of envied. 

“We are  _ not _ talking about York right now,” Carolina snapped. 

“Or ever, apparently,” Epsilon muttered. Carolina turned that glare on him, and Epsilon looked away, innocently flicking another piece of rubble. “Wow, Sigma sure did a number on the coven’s base. Too bad we can’t get any clues from it now.” 

“You’re the one who said torch it,” Sigma growled, smoke hissing from the corners of his mouth. 

“I didn’t mean  _ incinerate all hope of finding the witches. _ Aren’t you supposed to be  _ smarter _ than your Dragoon?” Epsilon retorted. Sigma growled, tail lashing, and bared his teeth, only to pause when Maine stepped up and tapped his leg to get his attention. 

“Arguing won’t help us find Wash,” Maine signed, his movements sharp and angry. Epsilon glanced between Maine and Carolina, who both seemed to be stewing in their frustrations, while Wyoming fucking  _ whistled _ his way through his corner of the rubble. Epsilon sighed and flicked his tail, signalling to Sigma and Gamma, who crossed the field with him to put some distance between themselves and the Dragoons. 

“I thought you were redirecting him,” Epsilon hissed to Sigma. The red dragon lifted his folded wings in the imitation of a shrug. 

“I’m trying, but he’s rather single minded. I think the quickest way to get him focused is to find Washington,” Sigma sighed. 

“Or convince him he’s dead,” Gamma pipped up. 

“What do you mean?” Epsilon narrowed his eyes, wary. 

“It wouldn’t be hard. Find one of the local Dragoons, torch his armor so no one can tell who he is, and tell Maine we found Washington, but we had to kill him because he and his witch friends attacked us. We dragons just don’t have the same finesse as humans,” Gamma explained, half-spreading his wings as he lifted his talons, waving them pointedly. 

“We are  _ not _ faking Washington’s death,” Epsilon snapped. “You have no idea how that would affect Maine. Besides, what happens when we track down the real Washington, and he knows you lied? You can’t risk the humans’ trust like that.” 

“If we don’t get Maine and the others  _ on track, _ we’ll never  _ find _ the real Washington,” Sigma countered. “I think Gamma’s idea could work.” 

“I don’t like it,” Epsilon insisted. “We need a fallback plan.” Sigma’s lip curled, revealing a flash of deadly fangs between puffs of smoke. 

“I  _ am _ the fallback plan. If Iota is going to use her little trick on me and make me roll over, I’m going to use mine to do the same.” 

“I thought you couldn’t possess other dragons,” Epsilon protested, digging his talons into the ground to keep himself from leaning away from Sigma. He hated it when Sigma and Gamma got like this, and he found himself desperately missing Eta and Iota. Hell, he’d take Omega and his determination to claw everything in sight over these two. 

“I can’t. But I know everyone’s weaknesses.” Sigma let out a low rumble that sounded too much like a purr for Epsilon to be entirely comfortable with that noise in this context. No one should be purring when discussing how to emotionally destroy their former squad members. “Iota’s weakness is Washington; she’s always been awfully protective of him.”

“I thought-”

“No, I can’t possess Washington, either. I think Iota pulls his energy more often than she needs to on purpose, just so her power is in there and I can’t get in,” Sigma complained without the same level of sour contempt he normally would have had. 

“But Washington has a weakness, too. Lots of them,” Gamma added, apparently catching on to where Sigma was going with this. And then Epsilon did, too. He didn’t like it - actually, he hated it - but he knew exactly where this was going.  

“Maine. Your plan is to possess Maine if we find Washington,” Epsilon realized. Sigma’s fangs glinted as he laughed. 

“Normally, it would be too obvious, and one of the others would notice. But if we tell him that his precious Wash is dead, let him hold the smoking corpse for a bit, and then he finds the real one?”

“His behavior would be erratic enough to disguise the change,” Gamma finished. 

“I don’t like this plan. Actually, I hate it. Maine is a member of our squad, and we’re supposed to protect him, not-”

“Maine is unfocused right now. He needs proper guidance. Once things settle down and we’re home, I’ll let him go,” Sigma promised. “But for right now, he wants to find Washington alive, but he also doesn’t want to fight him again, so he’s not working at his best. Wash is his motivation and the opportunity I need to make sure things go my way.  _ Our _ way.” Epsilon’s tail lashed through the field’s grasses as he considered. The other two waited, watching him with the kind of intent enthusiasm that made him want to reject the whole idea. 

He hated the idea of using one of his teammates like that, knew it would rip the remainder of their squad apart if this came to light. 

But Epsilon didn’t exactly have a better plan, and getting at least one of their two distracted humans back on track might be worth the price. 

Besides, Sigma and Gamma would probably do it anyway, and then Epsilon would have to choose between being complicit, which would potentially disrupt the team, and revealing the truth, which would definitely disrupt the team.

So he didn’t really have a choice. 

“Fine. But Sigma, I’ll hold you to what you said about releasing him afterwards,” Epsilon warned. “We are  _ not _ risking what’s left of the squad just so you can have fun playing puppet master with Maine.” 

“Relax. It’ll be fine. And hey, if it goes to hell, I promise not to rat you out and tell Carolina you agreed to it,” Sigma assured him. Epsilon didn’t believe that shit for a second, but he let it go. He really didn’t have a better plan, after all. 

“Okay, fine. Hop over to the garrison and grab someone with armor like Wash’s. Gamma and I will keep Carolina and Wyoming busy,” Epsilon ordered. Sigma gave him a flash of teeth that was probably supposed to be a grin - he kept imitating the humans’ body language, like with the wing-shrug - before surging into the air. Epsilon didn’t wait to see if Sigma turned in the right direction before making his way back to the humans, Gamma ambling at his side. 

“Where’s he off to?” Carolina asked, jerking her thumb in the direction Sigma had presumably flown. 

“Epsilon sent him to scout for anyone who might have been scared out of their hiding places by all the smoke,” Gamma explained. Carolina raised one eyebrow at Epsilon, who lowered his head to nudge her shoulder. 

“Hey, we’re all pretty scary. Maybe they saw us coming and went to ground.” Epsilon wasn’t a fan of lying, at least to Carolina. She had a habit of figuring him out and calling him out on his bullshit, and that was no fun. Especially because she always held it against him for  _ days, _ which was really overreacting most of the time. 

“You’re full of it,” Carolina informed him, pushing at his jaw. Epsilon put up just enough resistance to remind her which one of them was the goddamn dragon before letting her push his head away from her shoulder. “You just sent him on an errand because he torched more of the house than you wanted.”

“And you’re full of-” Epsilon broke off just in time, realizing halfway through that maybe making a joke about York wasn’t the best idea at the moment. “Well. Did you find anything?”

“There’s nothing  _ to  _ find.” Carolina scowled and kicked a charred piece of wood. “They didn’t tell anyone in the village where they were going, and they didn’t exactly leave a note.” As Gamma moved off to pester Wyoming, Carolina’s shoulders slumped. “Damn it. I don’t know what we’re going to do, Epsilon. Ever since the fight at the Capital, I…” She trailed off, and Epsilon knew she’d caught herself about to actually talk about her feelings about CT’s death, York’s betrayal, the disappearances of Washington and the twins. It had hit her harder than she admitted, but she refused to talk about it. 

Epsilon was pretty sure she’d die before admitting to any weakness, and in her mind, this counted. He wasn’t great with feelings, either, so he just did his best to keep her on track. He just had to figure out how, because he sure as shit wasn’t about to let Sigma pull his puppet bullshit with Carolina.

“You’ll get through it,” was what he came up with. “You’ll get all of us through it, you always do.” As soon as he said it, he knew it was the wrong thing.

“Not all of us,” Carolina muttered. Epsilon wondered how obvious it would be that he knew exactly what she was talking about and what awful guilt-ridden, fear-of-failure cocktail of feelings were behind it if he smacked his head on a few of the nearby trees. 

Thankfully, he didn’t have to find out, because Sigma dropped a charred corpse in the middle of the field, which caught everyone’s attention. 

Oh, good. The plan to break Maine’s heart to motivate him and then potentially let Sigma possess him was going smoothly. 

Epsilon really wished the sane half of the squad hadn’t left. 

Maybe it was a sign. Although, including South in the sane half was probably more of a sign of Epsilon’s increasingly low standards. 

“Sigma, what the fuck?” Carolina shouted, stomping toward the collection of scorched armor and charred flesh Sigma had brought. The stench was  _ awful, _ and Epsilon found himself grateful that fire breathing wasn’t one of his own abilities, because he would hate to have to smell that as often as Sigma probably did. 

“He was all alone. I had a chance, so I took it.” Sigma did that annoying wing-shrug thing again as he shifted his attention to Maine, his demeanor suddenly shifting. Sigma stretched out his wing, curled it around Maine, nudged the top of his head with his snout. Epsilon recognized the motion; Sigma was copying one of the things Iota and Xi did when one of their squad members was upset. “I’m sorry, Maine. I know you wanted him alive.” 

“What are you talking about?” Maine tilted his head as he signed, confusion radiating from him as he glanced between Sigma and the still-faintly-smoking corpse. 

“Washington. I know you wanted to try to get him back.” Sigma’s voice had the perfect amount of regret and apology. 

Epsilon held his breath, waiting for everyone’s reactions. Wyoming let out a low whistle and muttered something about knocking and boots. Carolina was frozen, shock and horror written in every inch of her expression and posture. Gamma was trying to look concerned, but he mostly just seemed interested in what everyone else was doing. 

It was Maine’s reaction that mattered, though. 

Maine stepped forward, away from Sigma, and knelt beside the smoking husk. He traced the curve of the breastplate - damn, Epsilon had to admit that Sigma had done a pretty good job of finding someone with the same kind of armor as Washington, and after the scorching it got, no one would be able to tell it hadn’t been painted Washington’s signature colors - and then paused with one gloved hand hovering over the top of the corpse’s head. 

For a long moment, Epsilon worried that Maine would figure it out, would reveal the plot, tear the remains of their squad apart. 

Then Maine’s head lowered. His hands moved close to his chest, the sign Epsilon recognized as Washington’s name pressed over his heart. 

Regret and uncertainty flashed through him as he watched Maine’s huge frame shake in a way that made him look smaller, somehow. He should have told Carolina and Maine the truth the second Sigma left, before he came back with the body that looked disturbingly like it could be Washington’s, considering most of it was ash, bone, and scorch marks. 

Now it was too late. 

Damn it. 

Maine bent over the body, hiding the movement of his hands, and Epsilon couldn’t decide who he hated more at the moment: Sigma, for planning this; Washington, for betraying them and making any of this necessary; or himself, for allowing this shit to move forward. 

God fucking damn it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone talk to me about this AU.  
> Or the post-Chorus Felix AU I have in mind.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix has a bad day for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this one is super short, and I'm sorry about that, but I have struggled with this chapter for days. I finally wrestled it into something manageable so. Here it is.

Wash sat with his back against Iota’s side, scratching absently at the tender spot under her jaw as he watched the witches going about making their new homes livable.

“This is a bad idea,” he muttered. 

“Because Church is letting Caboose help?” Iota asked. A screech of pure frustration echoed from the structure the Blue Coven was working on. 

“Tucker did it!” came Caboose’s defensive cry a moment later. 

“Tucker isn’t even here!” Church sounded desperate. Wash considered suggesting they go and help, but he also didn’t want to get caught up in whatever that screaming was about.

“No. Well, yes, but this is also a stupid place for them to stay,” Wash sighed. 

“Stupid is kind of our thing.” Wash looked up, watching as Tucker glanced at Iota for permission before leaning against her. Wash couldn’t help the spark of approval that brought. 

“Deciding to live in a couple of abandoned Dragoon outposts when you’re being hunted  _ by Dragoons _ is a new level of stupid,” Wash informed him. 

“Come on. The ones chasing us will think that, too. They’ll never even look here.” Tucker nudged Wash’s shoulder with his leg. “Come on, relax a little.”

“Wash doesn’t do that,” Iota teased.

“Someone doesn’t want any more scratches,” Wash huffed, pushing lightly at Iota’s cheek. The dragon let out the low rumble that was her laugh and lifted her head to the level of Tucker’s elbow. 

“I’ll just find someone else, then. Tucker, scratch,” Iota ordered. Tucker’s grin as he reached under the dragon’s head, searching for the place Wash had been scratching a minute ago, was so bright that Wash had to look away. 

“Hey, look at it this way. You can spend more time beating me up now,” Tucker laughed as he apparently found the right spot and got a satisfied half-growl out of Iota. Wash had to look up at him to give him a proper incredulous glare, and stopped. Tucker was looking down at him, that too-bright grin still in place. He looked...relaxed. Calm. Happy. 

It was a good look on him.

Wash stood and ducked under Iota’s neck, giving her a pat as he went. 

“I’m gonna go help Church and Caboose.” He hurried down the slope toward the Blue’s new home and tried to ignore the voice in the back of his head that told him he was running away. 

Because he wasn’t. 

He had just already betrayed Maine once. He wasn’t about to let himself get caught up in a smile that shone like the sun or eyes that sparked with lightning.

Maybe if Wash could just talk to Maine again, they could figure things out. Surely if Maine knew what Wash did about witches, about their own dragons...Maine would understand. He would choose what was right - choose Wash - over the Wizard. He’d join them. 

Then Wash’s life could get back to something like normal. 

He just had to find Maine.

Or let Maine find him.

* * *

 

North watched as Locus approached York and Delta, the air around him shimmering for a second before human and dragon alike jolted awake. 

“What…?” York groaned, pushing himself up. 

“You know, Yorkie, if you’d just behaved, we wouldn’t have to do this,” Felix sighed. Locus shot his partner a disapproving glare, compelling him to add, “Well, I mean, technically we don’t  _ have to _ anyway, but interpreting our orders this way is just so much more  _ fun.”  _

“What is going on?” Delta growled, eyeing Locus and Felix warily. 

“Kill the dragon first for me, okay, Locus?” Felix let out a pleased little sound somewhere between a hum and a laugh. North knew that if he wasn’t about to die in the next few minutes, that sound would be in his nightmares for  _ years. _

“Wait, what? No!” York lunged against his restraints. “You can’t!” His gaze darted wildly from Locus to Felix to the dragons to North before he locked eyes with South, who wasn’t restrained. 

“South! You have to help us!”

“Hold on, Locus.” Felix’s voice dropped to a dangerous purr. North was almost glad he’d be dead soon, because that was another sound he was never going to be able to get out of his nightmares. “Why don’t we let our new friend here do the honors?” Felix picked up South’s sword from where they must have dropped it after knocking all of them out and tossed it to her. South caught it, hilt first, and twirled the weapon once before striding across the distance separating her from York and Delta. 

“South!” North yanked on his restraints. “Don’t!” 

“South? What are you doing?” York tried to push himself to the side, between South and Delta. 

“Aw, Yorkie, it’ll be your turn soon enough,” Felix scolded, smirk fixed on York’s desperate attempts to protect his dragon. 

“Theta?” North kept his voice low, his movements minimal. Theta’s tail tip flicked, showing he’d heard. “Theta, I have an idea. Put up two shields. One around Felix and one around Locus. Can you do that?” 

Theta’s tail twitched again, and the dragon tilted his head, glaring at both of them. The air around Felix and Locus shimmered, the shields settling into place. North’s shoulders slumped in relief. He’s been afraid something would go wrong. 

“South! You don’t have to do this! They can’t-” North broke off as Felix  turned, reached toward Theta, and let loose a bolt of lightning, which distorted when it hit Theta’s shield and then kept going. Electricity hit the dragon, dragging a scream from his throat as the shields fell. “Theta!” 

“That’s cute, thinking air magic could stop us.” Felix was doing that creepy purring thing with his voice again, and North realized he was probably about to die a few minutes ahead of schedule as Felix stalked toward him, flipping a knife in one hand. “That shield trick might stop a sword, North. But lightning travels through air all the time.” 

“North?” Theta hid his face against North’s side. “North, it hurts.” 

“It’s okay.” He was lying, and he knew it. “It’s going to be okay, Theta. Just close your eyes, okay?” He didn’t want Theta to see what was about to happen. Felix flipped his knife one more time and caught it by the blade, ready to fling it straight into North’s body. Locus stood over Delta and York alongside South, who brought the tip of her sword to rest against the softer scales just under the corner of Delta’s jaw, one of the dragons’ few weak points. 

North met York’s eyes across the clearing, one last shared moment of desperation and fear and then Omega landed on top of Felix.

“You boys sure got yourself into a lot of trouble,” Tex said, flashing a grin at North that was probably supposed to be reassuring but was honestly kind of terrifying, and then she drew her sword and sprinted down Omega’s back, launching herself off the dragon’s hips. She landed next to Locus and swung at the same moment Omega’s tail delicately sent South flying across the clearing. She landed next to Eta, who curled his tail protectively around her. 

Locus dodged Tex’s blow, ducking under the sword and driving his fist toward her stomach, only to be met with a solid shield of air magic before he could make contact. 

“Thanks, Theta!” Tex called without looking away from her opponent, who scowled and moved his hand like he was reaching for her. 

There was a low wheeze, but Tex apparently didn’t need air to fight and drove the point of her sword through Locus’ shoulder. 

“Felix!” Locus shouted as he stumbled backwards. Omega let out an ear-shattering roar as lightning coursed through his body. The huge gray dragon stumbled to the side, letting an only partially crushed Felix roll to his feet, one of his arms from the shoulder down a bloody, misshapen mess from being stepped on by a dragon. “We have to retreat.” 

“Like hell! We can beat them!” Felix insisted, lightning crackling around him. 

“We are both injured,” Locus pointed out. “And outnumbered.” 

“Just kill them all!” Felix snarled as Omega slashed at him. 

“Don’t let Locus focus!” York called from where he was still restrained. Before Locus could do what Felix said, Tex was on him again, sword flashing, still not doing more than gasp and keep fighting when Locus reached for her breath. 

“Locus, the fuck are you doing?” Felix snarled, shocking Omega again when the dragon snapped at him.

“She won’t-” Locus broke off as he caught a high kick from Tex and tried to throw her, only for her to throw her weight into it and twist, slamming her other foot into the side of his head. 

“Shit! South!” Felix shouted. “If you really want to go back to the Capitol-”

“Eta! Get us - and them - out of here!” South shouted. 

Fear sleuced down North’s spine. From the way Theta whimpered and York and Delta cringed, North wasn’t the only one hit by Eta’s ability. 

Omega snarled, his own fury washing away the fear, just like back at the Capital, but this time, Eta hadn’t waited to see what happened. South was already on his back, and the dragon was in the air before Omega’s retaliation washed away the larger dragon’s hesitation. 

For a second, North hoped that they would just fly away, run off or even go back to the Capital themselves. 

Then Eta dove, snatched Locus in one set of talons and Felix in another, and was in the air again before Tex could react. 

“No!” she snapped when Omega spread his wings, ready to launch himself after them. “We need to help the others first.” 

“Then we find them. And kill them,” Omega growled as Tex went to York and Delta and started working at their restraints. 

“No. We need to warn the witches,” Tex insisted as she succeeded in freeing them and started toward North and Theta. “With their own kind hunting them, they don’t stand a chance.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember! Comments keep me and this fic alive!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epsilon has another bad day.

Epsilon dragged his talons through the earth, leaving gashes in the soil like the ones he was starting to want to leave in Sigma. The red dragon kept bringing up Washington, and Maine’s hands hadn’t so much as twitched to start a single sign since they’d buried the body the Dragoons believed to be Washington’s. Epsilon couldn’t even meet Maine’s eyes anymore, not that Maine was exactly trying to make much eye contact. 

Epsilon couldn’t really blame him. 

Maine was taking Wash’s death a lot harder than Epsilon had expected, but Sigma got this awful smug look in his eye whenever he thought no one was looking, which made Epsilon think that Sigma had known exactly how much damage this was going to do. It made Epsilon want to rip Sigma’s scales off and admit everything to Carolina and the others. 

“Epsilon!” Carolina’s voice was sharp, irritated. Shit, that probably wasn’t the first time she’d called him. He shifted, brought his head to her level. 

“Yeah?”

“Come on. Those outposts aren’t getting any closer,” Carolina snapped. Epsilon realized the others had already started, and Carolina was waiting on him to move. 

“Remind me why we decided to walk the rest of the way to the old Valhalla outposts?” Epsilon grumbled, hoping to distract her from how absent-minded he’d been. 

“Because we humans could use some exercise.” Carolina sounded cheerful enough, but a moment later, a shadow flickered across her expression and she added, “Maybe it’ll wear Maine out enough for him to sleep tonight.” Epsilon wasn’t sure Maine getting enough sleep was possible. The night before, it had taken him hours to fall asleep, and even then, he’d woken up every hour or so making those awful rasping noises that meant he’d be crying out if he could still talk. 

Epsilon hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep, either. 

He was pretty sure none of them had, except maybe Sigma, who probably slept like a rock, the twisted little asshole. 

Still, it was nice to use his legs instead of his wings for a bit. He tried to focus on their surroundings to keep his mind off of Sigma, but found himself falling back into guilt and regret every time he caught a glimpse of Maine’s shoulders set lower than normal or Sigma’s tail twitching in satisfaction.

He never should have agreed. He should have clawed Sigma’s stupid red scales off his stupid smug face when he suggested it. 

“Epsilon.” His name jerked him from his latest bout of self-loathing. When he glanced at Carolina, she just pointed. Epsilon followed the gesture to the valley below them, where the outposts they’d been looking for rested, one on each end of the valley. Epsilon remembered when their squad and Tex’s had been stationed there for a week of intensive training, one squad on each end of the valley, pitted against each other in grueling matches for days on end. 

However, after their squad’s training there, the bases were supposed to be abandoned. 

So why were there a handful of people there?

“Those are the witches we’re hunting.” Sigma’s voice made Epsilon want to cringe, but his actual words held him frozen in place. 

“The witches who torched the hatchery set up in our old training outposts?” Carolina shook her head. “I didn’t think even that group would be this stupid.” 

“Perhaps Washington gave them this location before splitting off from their group,” Sigma suggested. The way Maine’s shoulders twitched at that made Epsilon dig his talons into the ground to avoid swiping them across Sigma’s stupid red face. 

Maine. Sigma’s plan. Epsilon scanned the valley, but didn’t see any sign of Washington. Even Iota was nowhere to be seen, which had Epsilon’s wings drooping in relief. 

Maybe they could take care of this, wipe out the witches, and move on before the actual Washington showed up, and Epsilon could put off the rest of Sigma’s plan. 

Maybe if he was careful enough, when they did find the real Washington, Epsilon could just kill him and get rid of the body before Maine saw it. 

That was definitely a reasonable reaction to agreeing to Sigma’s insane idea. Yeah, he’d just murder Washington himself and move on with his life. 

“Let’s take them down. Sigma, Maine, you...plunge straight ahead, don’t bother listening to me, that’s fine,” Carolina sighed as Sigma launched himself into the air, Maine already on his back, and dove at the witches, spitting fire. “Wyoming, Gamma-” Carolina broke off, scowling, as Wyoming and Gamma followed Sigma and Maine’s example. “Does anyone fucking listen to me?”

“I miss Wash and South,” Epsilon replied mournfully. “Eta and Iota were so much better than those two.” 

“I swear, I’m going to kill them myself if the witches don’t get them first,” Carolina snarled, hauling herself onto Epsilon’s back. 

“Are we going to back them up?” Epsilon asked. 

“Not exactly. Let’s circle around behind the witches’ positions. Maybe we can kill enough of them that we’ll get to finish off Wyoming and the others ourselves.” Epsilon could get behind that. Especially if Carolina let him claw Sigma without questioning his motives. That would be amazing. 

Epsilon threw himself into the air and circled the valley, scanning for the witches below. They were fighting in two groups. Or, well, they had split into two groups. One set of witches was actually trying to fight Wyoming and Gamma, while the other was currently running for their lives from Sigma’s fire breath. As Epsilon swooped over the fleeing group - Sigma and Maine could handle the runners just fine - he heard them screeching something about  _ ‘not again’. _ Weird. 

Epsilon landed behind the witches facing off against Wyoming and his dragon, taking in the situation as Carolina slid down his shoulder. 

There was a lightning witch at the front of the group, holding his own against Wyoming surprisingly well. Which meant that Wyoming was clearly only not kicking the witch’s ass because the others were shooting magic at him and Gamma. Well, that and the electricity coursing along the witch’s blade, periodically arching out in search of Wyoming, who kept having to dodge the bolts instead of running the witch through. 

One of the witches had managed to get on Gamma’s back and was yelling something about friendship while leaking magic everywhere. Gamma kept twisting, trying to get the witch off of his back, but was apparently having a hard time, since his air magic was occupied with keeping the female witch’s flames away from his face, and his talons were chained to each other with enough water magic to drown the dragon if used properly. 

“Holy shit they’re just stupid enough to be a threat,” Carolina muttered as she advanced on the duel between Wyoming and the lightning witch. 

Epsilon turned his attention to the witches taking on Gamma. He paused for a moment just to enjoy seeing the slimy bastard struggling against the idiots, then went for the closest witch, the one whose water magic was keeping Gamma restrained. 

Epsilon bared his fangs with a snarl and lunged. The witch whirled - must have heard the snarling - and threw a new tendril of water magic out. Water wrapped around Epsilon’s snout like a muzzle, containing his fangs before wrenching his head to the side, away from the witch. 

“Shit! They have backup!” the witch shouted, and everything in Epsilon’s mind froze. 

That voice. 

He knew that voice. 

He knew that  _ face, _ and that face sure as shit didn’t match that voice. 

That was Georgia’s face, and Alpha’s voice, except it sounded lighter in a human mouth instead of a dragon one, but then that lighter version of the voice was familiar, too, and then there were memories everywhere. 

_ Running on two legs, not four, chasing a human child and laughing. He knew that child, knew him as well as he knew himself.  _

_ A younger version of Carolina was scolding them. _

_ The Wizard was watching, and they had to behave. But he wasn’t the Wizard in Epsilon’s memory, he was… _

_ No. _

_ No, this wasn’t real, none of it was real.  _

_ Epsilon had always been a dragon, not a human. He didn’t have siblings, especially not a human brother the mist curled around when he was sad, not a human sister who looked like Carolina.  _

_ He was Epsilon, a  _ dragon, _ not- _

_ Pain.  _

_ His brother screaming.  _

_ Then the silence.  _

_ More pain, more screaming, but this time it was him, and then the world went dark and warm and damp, the remains of his egg around him as he blinked up at his father - no - the Wizard, because he was a dragon, not a human, he was a dragon, a dragon, and his name was -  _

“Epsilon!” 

Carolina. The  _ real _ Carolina, not whatever that  _ thing _ in his memory had been. She was calling him. 

Epsilon forced himself to his feet  - when had he fallen? - and searched desperately for her. 

There. She had apparently abandoned the idea of helping Wyoming with the lightning witch, because she was putting herself between Epsilon and the water witch. 

“What did you do to him?” Carolina snarled, leveling her sword at the witch’s chest. 

“Nothing! I don’t know what the fuck is going on!” the witch insisted. 

“Carolina…” Epsilon’s head was  _ killing him, _ and every word from the water witch was making it worse, memories that couldn’t be his flooding his mind, making his vision swim. “Do you...do you know who that is?”

“Are you trying to lighten the mood by saying this witch looks like Georgia? Because this is  _ not _ the time to-”

“Okay, look. I’m not Georgia. Or Alpha. Or whoever else you’re going to say I look or sound like. I’m Leonard Church, and I’m not going to let you kill my coven.” 

“That’s…” Carolina trailed off, risked a glance at Epsilon, who was suddenly having a much harder time convincing himself those memories weren’t actually memories. 

“Carolina?” Epsilon rasped. “I think...I think I remember…”

“Oh. Did you just figure out you used to be human? Is that what all the screaming bullshit was about?” the water witch asked. 

“What?” Carolina was frozen. Epsilon was frozen. How had this witch known? How could he just say it like that?

“The talking dragons. They were all humans and the Wizard did some weird soul magic shit. That’s why he had Junior and the others kidnapped.” 

The children. 

Oh, fuck. 

“That’s the same bullshit York was spouting back at the Captial,” Carolina snapped. “It’s not-”

“Carolina. I  _ remember,” _ Epsilon interrupted. She turned on him, furious, but Epsilon held his ground. “I think we should hear them out.” Carolina stared at him, searching for something in his scaly expression. Epsilon lowered his head, nudged her shoulder. “If they’re wrong, we’ll kill them. But if they’re right…” 

“Fine.” Carolina nodded sharply. “I’m trusting you on this, Epsilon. Do your thing.” Epsilon lifted his head, scanning the valley. Maine and Sigma were still chasing their group of witches - apparently they’d managed to stave off Sigma’s fire breath with their own magic - while Gamma was still dealing with the fire witch and whatever that thing on his back was. Wyoming and the lightning witch were still trading blows. 

Epsilon activated his ability, speaking directly into their minds.

_ <New orders, squad.> _ He could feel their confusion, their protest.  _ <Stand down. Captain Carolina’s orders. The witches claim we used to be human.> _

“Who cares? We still need to kill them!” Wyoming snapped, finally gaining the upper hand in his duel as the lightning witch seemed to be running out of sparks. 

“No. We need their information first,” Carolina insisted. 

“Then keep that one, and we’ll kill the rest,” Wyoming reasoned, knocking the sword out of the witch’s hands. 

“We can just kill all of them and ask the Wizard about it when we get back,” Gamma added, snapping at the fire witch while trying to use his tail to knock the one clinging to his back to the ground. 

“You’re not killing any of them.” Epsilon knew that voice, and the dragon attached to it that landed next to Gamma, plucking the witch off his back with a delicate motion that left her free to plunge her fangs into his shoulder, dragging a furious screech out of Gamma. Iota was back, and Washington was with her.

And that’s when Sigma and Maine apparently decided to come see what the deal was with Carolina calling them off via Epsilon, and then everything went to shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Hopefully I'll be able to get the next part out soon, but as always, comments make that more likely!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wash has The Worst Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another short one, because it kind of felt like this scene should be its own chapter, even if it isn't as long.

Wash had his knives in hand as Iota landed, plucked Caboose off of Gamma’s back, and sank her fangs into the larger dragon’s shoulder. A quick scan of their immediate surroundings showed Carolina and Epsilon seemingly at a standoff with Church, while Wyoming was closing in on a disarmed Tucker. Wash threw one of his knives straight into the shoulder of Wyoming’s sword arm before launching himself after it.

“Washington?” Wyoming stumbled backwards, gaping at him. “But Sigma said you died!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you shouldn’t have come here!” Wash hissed, closing in on him and putting himself between Wyoming and Tucker, drawing a new knife as he faced his former squadmate. 

“Wash, look out!” Tucker shouted as a shadow passed overhead. Wash backpedaled, putting himself shoulder to shoulder with Tucker, who had managed to retrieve his sword when Wash distracted Wyoming. 

Sigma landed behind Wyoming, smoke billowing from his jaws. 

“Sigma, wait! It’s-” Wash broke off as the red dragon spat flames right at them. He shoved Tucker out of the way, only getting a little singed in the process. Wash hissed at the burn on his leg, stumbled only for Tucker to grab his arm and steady him. 

“You okay?” Tucker asked. Wash nodded and looked up to find Maine striding towards them, leaving a stunned Wyoming and a strangely smug-looking Sigma behind. 

“Maine…” Wash couldn’t help the half-step he took toward him. Maine was  _ there, _ maybe this time Wash would be able to explain. He couldn’t quite read Maine’s expression - Maine had never been one to show what he was thinking so easily - but there was something helpless and anguished there, and it made Wash’s chest ache. 

“You’re dead.” 

Everything stopped, Wash’s eyes fixed on Maine’s hands as he stopped halfway to Wash.

“What?” Wash felt like he couldn’t breathe. What was Maine saying?

“You. Are. Dead.” 

“What’s he saying?” Tucker glanced between them, clearly realizing Maine was signing even if Tucker didn’t actually know any sign language. 

“He says I’m dead,” Wash answered, a hollow opening up in his chest. 

“Like hell,” Tucker hissed, stepping forward to meet Maine. “I won’t let that happen.” 

“Enough!” Carolina was advancing on them, and she looked  _ pissed. _ Wash braced himself, ready to have to fight everyone left in his squad. “I  _ order _ you all to  _ stand down!” _

Well. 

That wasn’t what Wash was expecting. 

“He’s dead.” Maine didn’t seem capable of saying anything else. 

“Yes, he is,” Sigma agreed. Maine’s body language shifted, and he resumed his approach, sword raised. 

“Maine! Stand down!” Carolina shouted. Maine didn’t so much as twitch, just swung his sword the second he was in range. Wash stumbled backwards, dragging Tucker with him. 

“Maine, wait! Let’s-” Wash yelped as the foot of his burned leg caught in a dip in the ground. By the time Wash regained his balance and his bearings, Maine’s sword was descending, ready to cleave his skull in two. 

Maine was going to kill him. 

_ “No!” _ Lightning hit Maine an instant before Tucker did, electricity making his body seize for just long enough that Tucker’s weight threw him off. The sword came down and cut deep into the earth right next to Wash. “Iota!” 

Ice erupted around Maine’s sword, keeping him from pulling it out of the ground. Tucker flung out a hand, lightning jumping from his fingertips to Maine, whose body contorted with the energy, his mouth open in a silent scream. 

“Don’t hurt him!” Wash shouted, grabbing Tucker’s arm. Lightning shot through him for a split second, just long enough that it felt like every nerve in his body was on fire, and then it was gone, and Tucker was pulling him away from Maine, one arm around Wash’s waist as the other held his sword out between them and the larger Dragoon. 

“Shit,  _ shit, _ I’m sorry,” Tucker muttered, risking a glance at Wash as Carolina moved to intercept Maine. “I didn’t mean to get you, too.” Wash let Tucker take some of his weight as he strained to see what was happening. 

Maine was leaving. 

Maybe he didn’t want to fight Carolina, even if he apparently wanted to kill Wash. Maybe he had finally decided to obey the order to stand down. 

Regardless, Maine was returning to Sigma’s side. 

“Carolina! Don’t tell me the witches turned you, too,” Sigma sneered as Maine climbed onto his back. 

“This isn’t about them! The dragons-”

“Gamma! With the Captain on their side, we’re outmatched.” Sigma didn’t wait to hear the explanation. 

“Of course.” Gamma shoved his shoulder into Iota, jostling her fangs loose, and then let out a blast of air magic that blew the witches back. Before anyone could react, Gamma had Wyoming gripped carefully in his talons, and they were in the air. 

Sigma followed. 

Maine didn’t look back. 

“Shit!” Carolina’s voice reached him as though she was on the other side of the valley. He wasn’t sure what she said after that, either, because  _ Maine tried to kill him. _ Maine  _ disobeyed an order _ to try to kill him. 

The image of Maine’s broadsword coming down towards his head kept playing over and over in his mind. 

“Wash? You okay?” Tucker was still supporting him, and he sounded upset. “Iota!” 

“I’m here.” Iota’s voice was low, grim, and even the soothing feeling of her magic healing the burn on his leg couldn’t make Wash feel better. Her muzzle pressed against the side opposite Tucker, sandwiching him between them. 

“He tried to kill me,” Wash whispered. 

“I’m sure it was a misunderstanding,” Iota assured him, curling her wing around him them to block out whatever the others were doing. 

“No, he was pretty clear.” Tucker’s words were sharp enough to make Wash want to flinch. “He kept saying Washington was dead over and over.” 

“Wyoming said Sigma told them Wash died,” Iota insisted. “Maybe-”

“It doesn’t matter whether he meant he was going to kill me or he thought I was dead,” Wash interrupted, the words falling from his tongue like the death sentence Maine had tried to carry out. “He was going to kill me, Iota. Even after Carolina told him to stand down.” 

“I’m sure-”

“No.” Wash didn’t know how it was possible for his heart to feel like it was completely empty and being torn to shreds at the same time, but it did. “I made a choice. I betrayed  _ everything _ when I chose the witches, even him. And now I’m paying for it.” 

“You did what you thought was right. And for what it’s worth, I think you made the right call,” Tucker told him. 

“Thanks.” It didn’t help, not really. Wash knew he couldn’t have made any other decision, not after he realized what Junior was. But the clear loss of his position in Maine’s life left him feeling too raw to be comforted. 

“Hey.” Tucker’s voice was softer as he spoke again, and Wash realized Tucker’s arm was still around him, even though Wash’s leg was completely healed, and he definitely didn’t need to keep leaning against Tucker. “Washington. Look at me.” Wash considered refusing - he didn’t want to hear anything else about how betraying Maine was the right call, and he  _ really _ didn’t want to hear Tucker say something about it not being Wash’s own fault Maine wanted him dead, because it absolutely  _ was  _ \- but then Tucker’s sword fell to the ground, and his hand came up to Wash’s jaw instead, gently turning his head so he was staring straight into those sharp blue eyes. “He didn’t listen to you before, and he didn’t listen to you just now, either. You made your choice, he made his. You can’t choose for him, Wash. But next time, we’ll make sure he listens. Together.” 

Wash found himself nodding, caught up in the determination that sparked like lightning in Tucker’s eyes, and his heart didn’t feel any less tattered or empty, but maybe it would get a little better. Eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you liked this. The last couple chapters have been a bit of a struggle to get down.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Locus has a plan for the day. Felix doesn't like the plan.

Locus was grateful Felix wasn’t terribly coherent when they landed. It was easier to manhandle the smaller man when he was out of it, even if he did get a few mumbled curses tossed his way when he settled down with Felix’s head and shoulders on his lap. 

“Is he even gonna make it?” South eyed Felix’s mangled shoulder skeptically. Locus shot her a glare and didn’t answer. 

“You have a canteen?” Locus asked, pulling his own and Felix’s from their belts. 

“Yeah, but-“

“Give it to me,” Locus ordered without looking up. He opened the canteens and held one hand over the openings, a twist of his wrist drawing the water out of them. South hissed as the water followed Locus’ movement. He wasn’t surprised by her reaction; any Dragoon on an elite squad like hers would know witch magic when they saw it. He guided it to the worst of the damage to Felix’s shoulder, pushed the water into the wound, and closed his eyes. 

Multiple fractures, two full breaks, slashed muscle, and blood loss, all pretty standard for being stepped on by a dragon. Considering Omega’s size, it could have been so much worse. 

If Omega’s talons has come down just a little to the side, he might have crushed Felix’s ribs. 

Locus shook off that thought and eased the water through Felix’s body, checking for additional damage. Finding only the normal soreness and assorted small scrapes and bruises that were normal for his partner. 

“Shouldn’t you take care of your shoulder, first?” South asked, holding out her canteen and giving Locus’ own wound a pointed look. 

“I’ve had worse,” Locus replied, beckoning to the water inside the third canteen, calling it to Felix’s shoulder to mingle with the rest of the water and Locus’ own power. 

The bones were first, setting the breaks and threading enough magic through them that they would begin healing. Then came the muscle and broken skin, teasing them back together where one of Omega’s talons had torn Felix open. 

Finally, every last bit of the water that carried Locus’ power was poured into replenishing the blood Felix had lost. 

Locus opened his eyes, feeling the pull of exhaustion and pain that always came with using water magic compounded by the wound in his shoulder. 

“I thought magic healing was supposed to be instant,” South scoffed. Locus squinted at her, momentarily surprised by the fact that he had to look across a campfire, which seemed to be the only source of light. “You’ve been at it for _hours.”_  

“A water witch whose specialty is healing would work more quickly, and be more effective,” Locus replied, blinking as he realized the three canteens at his side were full. 

“Eta and I made camp. Found a stream for water, too,” South explained when she noticed where he was looking. Locus considered for a moment, then beckoned to her. “What?” 

“Come here. You were thrown quite far,” Locus ordered. South hesitated, clearly not wanting to get close to him. “This will work better if you follow directions, South.” Her face scrunched like she wanted to tell him off, but Eta nudged her side with his snout, getting her attention before she could say anything. Her wince at the gesture didn’t escape Locus’ notice. Getting thrown like that must have done as much damage as he suspected. 

“You picked them. We should cooperate,” Eta rumbled, to South’s visible irritation. Locus got the feeling she didn’t really do cooperation with strangers. Or anyone. She certainly hadn’t stuck with her brother. 

“Fine.” South stomped around the fire and sat next to Locus, pointedly keeping a marginally safe distance between herself and Felix’s prone form. “Do your thing.” 

Locus pulled just one of the canteens’ water, spreading it into a mist as he guided it toward South. Since she didn’t have a large open wound like Felix, he’d have to be a little more delicate. 

South opened her mouth - probably to complain about him taking too long - and Locus slid the mist right in. He ignored South’s reaction - a choked yelp and some spluttered curses - and focused on moving the mist and its magic through her body. She had heavy bruising on her back and side, nothing like Felix’s injuries, but Locus found himself silently impressed she had worked to get a fire going and refilled the canteens. Locus had a feeling it was a combination of not wanting to show weakness and wanting to prove herself, but that was for Felix to worry about when he woke up. 

Locus made short work of her injuries and then withdrew his magic. 

“So you two really are witches.” 

“Yes.” Locus drew the mist over Felix’s wounds, checking their progress, and poured the last of his energy into urging the process along. Once he was satisfied that Felix would wake up able to move without too much risk or pain, Locus forced himself too turn his attention to his own injury. 

“Wait. Are you seriously just going to bandage that without magic?” South’s incredulity didn’t even make him pause as he started to clean the dried blood from his shoulder by pouring water over it instead of using his magic. 

“Of course.” Locus wasn’t sure why that was so surprising, but it also wasn’t his priority to explain, so he focused on stitching own wound as best he could. His fingers trembled, and he was starting to have trouble moving them the way he wanted, an unfortunate side effect of using as much water magic as he had. Luckily, Tex’s sword hadn’t gone all the way through, so he could reach everything he needed to, even if he wasn’t doing the best job patching himself up. 

He didn’t know how late it was when he finished, but South must have given up incredulously watching him, because she was curled up under Eta’s wing, fast asleep. Locus shook his head, turned his attention to Felix, who was still out. He debated trying to heal him more, but considering how much South had managed while he was focused on healing his partner, it probably wasn’t a good idea to be focused on anything but keeping an eye out for trouble. 

So Locus forced himself to stay alert, scanning the darkness and listening for anything that might indicate they were in danger. 

He didn’t know how long it was before the sky started to brighten, but by the time it did, his whole body was stiff from sitting motionless the whole night, and his shoulder was aching from the brusk treatment he’d given his wound, but he pushed that aside. 

South was stirring, which meant he could focus on another quick round of healing for Felix’s injuries. Locus pulled water from one of the full canteens and eased it into mist, using it to carry his magic into Felix’s body. 

The gash was healing well, the lingering effects of Locus’ magic speeding up the healing process. The bones were taking longer, but they were solid enough that Locus was sure Felix would be able to move around with only a manageable level of pain. 

“Done playing doctor yet?” South was sneering at him, Locus ignored her, pushing his magic a little more to reinforce the mending bones. 

“Are you done being a bitch?” Felix’s voice caught Locus off guard. “Hey, asshole, my arm still hurts. What have you been _doing_ all night?” 

“Sounds to me like you’re the one being a bitch,” South retorted. She looked like she was going to say more, but then realized who she was being obnoxious to and thought better of it. “Come on, Eta. Let’s find something to eat.” She pulled herself onto Eta’s back, and the two were gone a moment later. 

“She moved pretty well for someone who got thrown across the clearing,” Felix commented, pushing himself upright with a wince. Locus tried to hide his grimace as he stretched, the movement tugging at his stitches. “You, on the other hand…” 

“I am fine,” Locus insisted, prodding his wound briefly to check for any sign of infection. Finding none, he returned his attention to Felix. “You need at least one more full healing before-“

“You used everything you had on me again, didn’t you?” Felix was glaring at him. Locus met his apparent anger steadily. 

“I used a little to ensure South was mobile.”

“You’re a fucking moron, you know that?” Felix didn’t wait for him to answer, just moved in to judge Locus’ stitches. “These are worse than usual, by the way.” 

“Would you prefer I leave the wound open?” Locus raised one eyebrow. 

“I’d _prefer_ you just let someone who knows what they’re doing handle it,” Felix sniffed, clearly disapproving of Locus’ handiwork. “You should have woken me up.”

“It is easier to heal you when you are unconscious,” Locus replied evenly. 

“If your wound doesn’t heal right, we’ll have bigger problems than me being bitchy,” Felix’s tone was sharp, but his fingers on Locus’ shoulder next to the wound were light, the closest Felix ever got to gentle. “You left yourself for last again, didn’t you? Your stitches are only this bad after you’ve used up all your focus on magic. Which means you didn’t do anything about your blood loss, either, did you?” 

“I will be fine. I can fight with-”

“You are _such_ a fucking moron,” Felix interrupted. “I mean, I know I keep telling you that I don’t keep you around for your brilliant ideas, but come _on.”_ Locus leaned back on his good arm, one eyebrow raised as he waited for Felix to get to the point. Felix’s fingers on his bad shoulder tightened, not enough to risk tearing the clumsy stitching, but enough that Locus could feel his skin tug pointedly against the stitches. “No more magic, Locus. Not on me or South. Tomorrow, after you’ve rested and gotten some of your strength back-”

“South is mobile and in fighting shape.” Locus knew what Felix was getting at, and he wasn’t going to let himself be talked into healing himself instead of making sure Felix’s wounds might as well not have happened at all. “But I have enough magic left to do some good, and your arm-”

“This isn’t up for debate.” Felix’s gaze darted around the campsite before settling on Locus’ face and staying there. “If you have enough magic to finish healing me, you have enough to heal yourself. And don’t you _dare_ try to finish with me before I tell you not to, I can _feel_ that damn itchy wet shit.” 

Locus frowned, because an innocent expression wouldn’t get him out of this. If he could finish healing Felix fast enough, however…

“Sam.” Locus’ concentration shattered. The magic he’d had lingering in Felix’s body faded, leaving him with just enough energy to either heal his stab wound to the point it wouldn’t need the terrible stitch job, or he could relieve the last of Felix’s discomfort and have him back at fighting strength. 

“Let me-”

“No, Sam. You’re going to hold still while I take those shit stitches out, and then you’re going to heal yourself.” Locus wanted to protest, or just disobey and heal Felix anyway, but Felix wasn’t exactly waiting for him to decide. He had the tip of one of his knives under the stitches before Locus could stop him, leaving Locus to choose between making his own wound a lot worse or letting Felix delicately remove the stitches. “You’ll be more efficient if you just do as I say, and you’re no good if you can’t fight efficiently. That’s how this works, remember?” 

Locus couldn’t argue with that, and he knew how unpleasant Felix could be if Locus outright defied him. 

“Fine.” Locus concentrated on relaxing his shoulder, forcing himself not to tense up or pull away as Felix removed his stitches. 

“Good. Now your turn,” Felix said as he tugged the last stitch free from Locus’ flesh, leaving his wound bleeding again. Locus held his gaze for a moment, then reached for the water in the last canteen and guided it to his own shoulder. Under Felix’s pointed watch, the wound closed, skin knitting itself back together enough to satisfy his demands. "When South and the dragon get back, we'll move. We need to find and take down those witches; they're the priority. And after that..." Felix's grin was sharp enough to do any dragon proud. "After that, we'll take down the rogue Dragoons, starting with Captain Texas." 

Locus nodded, accepting Felix's plan. And if he only healed himself enough so that he wouldn’t reopen his wound when he moved, and saved the rest of the little bit of magic that he’d regained overnight for when Felix was paying less attention, well, what Felix didn’t know would only help him. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to see more of this AU, let me know. I have a lot of shenanigans in mind, but I don't know if people will like this? So I'm kind of putting this out there to test the waters. If people like it, I'll continue. If not, i'll just leave it.


End file.
